Heart and Soul
by becstothefecsio
Summary: The story follows a vampire and a "human" and their weird connection that they try to figure out.
1. Chapter 1

**_AN:_** Hello, people. I shouldn't be doing this. I have a shit ton of school work and another story on this site that I haven't updated in a while for school reasons yet when I had this idea one day and sat down and began writing it by the time I finished a chapter I had the ending planned out in my head.

I can't promise to update regularly because I have a semester to pass. I hope you like this. Feedback is very welcomed.

Thank you for stopping by...

* * *

Jesse was whistling Heart and Soul while he roamed the suburbs of Barden. It was a warm fall night. The full moon and the street lamps were illuminating the way for him, not that he needed the light to see well.

"Here, Agatha." He tilted his head hearing the voice of a little girl calling for her cat. He followed the voice to find a small girl.

"Excuse me," she said spotting him.

"Yes?" He stopped in his tracks.

"Have you seen my cat?" she asked.

"What does it look like?" he wondered as he looked around them focusing so he could pick up the cat meowing from a distance.

"She's black." She shrugged not sure how to describe her pet.

"I didn't see any cat around here," he told her and watched her nod and continue to look for her cat.

He frowned then asked, "Do you live around here?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she said over her shoulders.

He smiled stuffing his hands in his khaki pants' pockets. "I think I hear your cat," he told her.

"I don't," she countered looking around her.

"It's coming from that way," he nodded towards the source which was quite far for her ears to hear. Looking back at her he grinned at the suspicious look in her eyes.

"I'll go get her for you," he said and began making his way towards a tree located in a dark area.

As soon as he was in the dark, he ran in full speed and reached the cat.

"I assume you're Agatha," he sighed picking the black cat. He patted its head then ran back to where he left the little girl.

"Good girl," he said to the cat while scratching its head for how well it handled the speed he ran in.

"Is this your cat?" he asked as he came out of the shadows.

"Agatha?" the little girl called to which the cat responded to with a simple meow.

"Thank you," she thanked Jesse as he handed her the cat.

"You're welcome," he smiled at her as he rested his palms on his knees and got on eye level with the small girl.

"Do you know how to get home?" he wondered, holding her gaze: he could tell they were a dark shade of blue and he liked looking at them.

Noting the frown that formed on her forehead as she looked around her he got his answer.

"I helped you find your cat, I'll help you find your way back home," he offered.

She thought about his offer for quite some time then nodded cautiously.

"Which way did you come from?" he asked and straightened up.

"That way," she pointed at the street on the right.

He nodded and they started walking towards it while he kept his guard up hoping to hear her parents look for her.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I turned seven today," she told him.

"What a coincidence, it's my birthday today, too!" he told her surprised with the coincidence.

"How old are today?" she asked a little excited about the one thing in common they had.

He smiled a little then said, "How old do you think I am?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "You can't be seven because you're too big."

"You're absolutely correct. I'm definitely not seven." He looked at her, amused with the conversation. "I'm twenty-eight," he told her.

"You're really old," she noted in a serious tone making him chuckle.

' _You have no idea!'_ he thought to himself.

"Do your parents know you're out looking for Agatha?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"They could be worried about you," he told her.

"No, they aren't," she looked up.

"What makes you so sure?" He found himself smiling down at the careless look in her navy blue eyes.

"They're busy yelling at each other to notice I'm not home," she shrugged looking down to pat her cat.

Jesse nodded focusing his hearing sense looking for the sound of arguing and found one not far away.

"Do you live here?" she asked him as they walked.

"I just move here," he answered.

"Oh, where did you come from?"

"Chicago," he answered after a beat. "Do you know Chicago?" he wondered and was met with a nod.

"Mom and Dad lived there until I was born."

"So you were born there?" he asked.

She nodded.

He found himself wondering if he'd seen her the night she was born because he was at a hospital in Chicago the night she was born getting a few bags of blood. He dismissed the thought because the probability of that having happened was way too slim.

"Do you like Barden better than Chicago?"

"I actually do," he nodded. "It's quiet 'round here. It's refreshing." He sucked in a deep breath. "Do you like Barden?" he asked.

She shrugged. "This is our neighborhood," she told him recognizing the street.

Jesse nodded knowingly: he could hear a couple arguing.

He walked her to her house and felt a little bad hearing her sigh at the sound of her parents arguing.

"Thank you for helping me find Agatha," she thanked him. "And for walking me home."

"You take care of yourself, okay?" he said to her, running a hand over the cat.

"I will." She smiled at him then turned on her heels.

He watched her get inside the house and focused his hearing to listen better as he walked away. Hearing the little girl reassure her meowing cat, "They'll stop, don't worry," while walking up the stairs felt bittersweet.

* * *

He didn't think he'd come across the little girl again but her eyes were hard to miss. He stopped to make sure it's her. His memory never failed him. Same pale skin. Same navy blue eyes. She was little older but still small. If he did his math right she was fourteen.

He felt a little creepy staring at a teenager so he walked away. He wasn't at a hospital to creep on teenage girls. He was a hospital for a whole other reason.

Jesse had sneaked into the blood bank grabbed a bunch of blood bags, making sure not to take the O negative bags because he understood how important and rare they were and was making his way to the elevator, when he heard her say, "Excuse me." He tilted his head 'cause it felt directed to him and found _her_.

"Yes?" he replied meeting her gaze.

"My mom's serum bag is empty and I was told to get someone to check up on her once it's empty," she told him, pointing at the room behind her. "I can't find anyone, Doctor," she said thinking he was a doctor thanks to the white coat he was wearing.

Jesse blinked then walked towards into the room, grabbing her mother's patient chart once he reached the bed. He frowned at what he read and silently wondered how in the hell was the woman still alive with a number of fractures she had.

He glanced at the girl and wondered how in the hell she was holding up so well and wasn't weeping.

She was old enough to understand that her mother's condition was life threatening.

He smiled curtly at her when she looked at him feeling his gaze. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the small bottle he brought with him, containing his serum, which he used to help patients heal fastest with just a drop of it whenever he went to get some blood for himself from the hospital.

(He was taking blood, it felt only right to help people recover faster as a payment and satisfy his conscience.)

"You should be at school," he said as he stood by the bed and began injecting a few drops into the passed out woman's bloodstream—more than a couple of ounces would make the recovery miraculous, he just wanted her to heal fast.

"I don't have school today." She shrugged in response.

He knew she was lying but didn't see the need to point it out. If he were in her position, he'd definitely skip school to be next to his badly injured mother.

"Next time you need something push that button and a nurse will come," he told her nodding at a button near her mother's bed.

"Okay," she said spotting it.

He smiled at her when she looked back at him. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will," she curtly replied.

"One more thing," he stopped at the doorway. She looked up. "Happy birthday," he said with a small smile.

She frowned. "How did you know it's my birthday?" she asked crossing her arms across her chest.

He shrugged in response and left the room.

* * *

Seven years later, he met her again.

Well, not met, heard.

Yeah, he heard her and followed her voice.

Her voice actually caught his attention, she was singing _Enrique Iglesias's I Like It._

He didn't know it was her until he got to the source, a karaoke bar, and saw her. He instantly recognized her. She was definitely older.A little taller than the last time he'd seen her. He couldn't help but smile a little at how much fun she was having. She was intoxicated. He quickly figured she was celebrating her twenty-first birthday.

He walked to the bar and order a jack on the rock, that he wasn't planning on drinking, all the while thinking of how he had seen her on their shared birthday three times—maybe four, he wasn't sure if he'd seen her the night she was born— Once every seven years. He had to admit it was an odd coincidence.

He didn't plan to talk to her but when she approached him, he couldn't ignore her.

"Hi, excuse me," she grinned at him when he tilted his head at the tap on his shoulder.

"Yes?" he answered as he closely eyed her. Her makeup was a little smudged, her cheeks were flushed sign of her intoxication, and he could smell tequila and beer off her and her fucking sweat smelled nice. He didn't know what to think of that.

"This is gonna sound weird," she started to say. He nodded for her to keep going.

"It's my birthday and my friends made a list of things to do in celebration." She rolled her eyes. "It's stupid. But if I don't play along they'd nag me for weeks and I can't deal with them," she rambled.

"Okay?" he said not sure what she wanted from him.

"Do you have herpes?" she asked.

"Excuse me?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Oral herpes," she gestured at her mouth. He shook his head.

"An infection in your mouth or something contagious?"

"No, I'm fine." He frowned.

"Good," she smiled. "Do you mind if I kissed you? You see the list says I have to kiss a stranger. Nothing big, just a small peck would be enough to get them off my back."

"Why me?" he asked.

Compared to him, she was a child and it felt highly inappropriate to kiss her and very wrong.

"I didn't see a wedding band," she nodded at his left hand while running her fingers over it. "And I like the shape of your lips," she shrugged looking up, anxiously biting her bottom lip.

Her gesture made him feel funny. He closed his eyes for a second because he could very clearly remember her at the age of seven and knew the funny feeling was attraction, something he hadn't felt in _a_ _long time_.

"Wait, you're not gay, are you?" she asked as she drew circles on his hand.

"No, I'm not," he shook his head.

 _Technically_ he stopped aging at Twenty-eight so it wouldn't be so strange to be kissing a twenty-one-year-old girl.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'm making you uncomfortable." She chuckled humorlessly.

And his attraction was physical and _physically speaking_ he was young.

"Took me a little by surprise." He sat up. "I don't mind," he decided, shutting the voice in his head that told him it's wrong. Because he couldn't pass out on an opportunity to experience something he hadn't experienced in _a long time_.

She grinned and leaned in, placing a hand on his shoulder. The moment she pressed her lips against his he felt like he had just tasted life. He knew it wasn't just him that felt it because she squeezed his shoulder and pulled away instantly.

She blinked then looked back at him. "I thought I was gonna get sick or something… Can we kiss again?" she asked.

He nodded and braced himself, this time placing a hand on her hip.

He didn't know how to describe the feel of her lips against his. He was overwhelmed. She was warm and was an excellent kisser.

Usually, he avoided foods and drinks that humans consumed, they overwhelmed his tasting sense and were _too much._ So, he avoided them all together since he didn't need them for survival: but the alcohol she was drinking tasted fine, it didn't bother him in the slightest.

Any thought of wrongfulness disappeared.

In his years of 'living', he had never felt so alive doing anything as they melted into a kiss.

And when she moved her hand up and placed it on his neck, he felt as if he were touched by an angel, as corny as that might sound. But he couldn't bare her touch any long despite how amazing she felt because it made him want her so he pulled away.

She looked at him in a confusion that he felt as well.

"Happy birthday," he softly said and offering her the glass of jack.

"Thank you," she thanked him nonchalantly accepting the drink and bringing it to her lips before she walked away. He felt intense withdrawal when she removed her hand from his neck and he knew he had to go and take care of it.

"We said kiss a stranger not drape yourself all over a stranger," Chloe snickered.

"Yeah, Beca, what was that? You looked like you were going to shag him right there right then," Amy pointed out as she sipped her beer.

"Is he that good of a kisser?" Stacie wondered glancing at the bar and frowning when she didn't see Jesse at the bar.

"From earth to Beca," Cynthia Rose shook Beca's shoulder.

"What?" Beca looked snapping out of her confused thoughts.

"You look like he penetrated you with his aura," Stacie said as she eyed her teammate.

"Not a good enough reason to use the word penetrate," Amy said in slight disgust.

* * *

"What is going on here?" Donald asked in a raspy voice while rubbing his eyes, as he stood in the last step of the staircase in the basement.

"What do you mean?" Jesse asked as grabbed his fourth blood bag.

"You usually avoid spending unnecessary energy yet Benji tells me you _ran_ down here at full speed. And you also don't feed more than once a week  yet it looks like you're throwing yourself a feast. So, what's going on here?" He wore his hipster glasses.

"Nothing," Jesse shrugged mumbling as he sucked on a blood bag.

"Whatever, man," Donald shrugged. "Just slow down with the feeding."

"I can't. But don't worry about it. Everything is all right." He gave Donald thumbs up.

* * *

He realized after a gallon and a half, the equivalent of the blood inside the human body, that it wasn't going to make the craving go away so he decided to go for a walk.

And somehow ended up in the cemetery. He didn't think he'd have company there so he let his guard down and think a little clearly of what happened and think of a reasonable explanation.

However, his train of thoughts was interrupted when he heard _her_ hum Dream A Little Dream of Me under her breath. And, unlike earlier that night, he didn't pick it up from a distance. It was near. Tilting his head he saw her and wondered what she was doing in the middle of the night on her birthday in the fucking graveyard.

She didn't seem to notice his presence so he leaned against a tree in the dark and watched her, feeling like a certified creep.

She stood in front a grave and sighed. "I know I'm a little late this year. I got held up by the girls. And I'm a little drunk, so there's that."

Hearing her talk to whoever laid in the grave before her, he felt like shit for invading her privacy so he decided to leave.

"Shit," Jesse murmured when he stepped on dried and it caught her attention.

"I think I'm gonna cut this short. I should have come earlier. I think there's a raccoon." He heard her say. "I love you and miss you so fucking much. I promise I'll come tomorrow and complain about my headache." He was chuckling at her deadpan tone. He watched her walk away and waited until she was far enough she wouldn't be able to see him before he walked over to the grave.

Reading the gravestone, he frowned.

'In Memory of

Jane S. Mitchell

May 7, 1961

October 7, 2003'

' _Weird,'_ he thought to himself, crossing his arms across his chest.

10/7/2003 was exactly 7 years ago.

He remembered the name he read on the patient chart that very day: it was the name on the gravestone.

It didn't make sense that her mother would pass away when he had injected her with his blood.

His blood should have cured her.

That thought kept messing with his head and he had to know why.

* * *

Being a little obsessive, he got consumed by it.

He went to the hospital and went through the records of the deceased woman and saw that her death was due to the shit ton of fractures she had suffered from ie. his blood didn't cure her.

He couldn't understand why it didn't. It had never happened before. His blood wasn't flawed. It could cure any human illness.

* * *

"Hey, Benji did you get me that book I asked for?" Jesse asked his housemate over the phone.

" _What book?"_ Benji asked in confusion.

Jesse rolled his eyes and said, "The Gaelic mythology book?"

 _"Right,"_ Benji paused. _"I have it but I have class now. I'll bring it over when I get home later."_

"I'm actually on campus right now, where are you?" Jesse asked as he looked around for friend through his dark shades that were barely protecting his sensitive eyes.

" _The quad,"_ Benji's answer came fast.

"I see you," Jesse said spotting his friend then made his way to him.

"Are you okay?" Benji asked cautiously. "You don't usually walk around during the day."

"Yeah," Jesse shrugged.

Sunlight bothered him to no end but unlike what was common knowledge his kind didn't burst into flames once exposed to the sun.

"It's been a week and you're still acting weird."

"Donald is overreacting," Jesse casually said.

"You finish all the blood," Benji told him as he pulled the book from his back bag and handed it to Jesse. "I checked."

He wasn't in the slightest worried that Jesse would hurt anyone but he was a little worried about Jesse.

"You can stop looking at me like that, I won't rob the town's blood bank," Jesse said in a bored tone and sat down near his friend under a tree hiding from the sun and opened the book.

"Well, I better head to class," Benji announced.

"I'll see you later then." Jesse leaned against the tree.

* * *

The book was of no help and it frustrated him a little. It was the same old fairy tale that had some truth to it but wasn't close to the truth either. He didn't expect it to have all the answers, he just assumed it would offer him something he could dig into.

He looked up and sighed as he looked around him.

"You must remember this," he mumbled reading the title of the book that a ginger girl was holding in her hand while she laid on a towel on the quad reading near him. He smiled recalling a song that began with the same line. "You must remember this. A kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply. As time goes by," he recited the lyrics from the song As Time Goes By and caught the girl's attention.

"Do you know the song?" he asked her watching her rest her weight on her elbows.

"Yeah, I've heard it before. It's a nice song," she nodded.

"Is the novel any good?" he asked when she put a bookmark.

"It's all right," she answered with a shrug.

"What's it about?" he wondered.

"A fifteen-year-old girl that falls in love with her thirty-year-old uncle," she informed him. "What's the song called?" she asked. "I hear my friend sing it sometimes but I never learned the name."

"As Time Goes By it's from the Broadway musical Everybody's Welcome but was made famous when Dooley Wilson sang it in Casablanca," he told her.

"Cool," she briefly said and looked away from him to grab her phone and laid back as she typed a text.

He looked back at the book he was holding and looked through it.

"Bec, your dad is making us read a depressing and very controversial novel." He heard the ginger whined five minutes later.

"Did you ask me to come over here so you could complain about my father? I have to be at work in thirty minutes, you know?" He looked up hearing the second voice because it was _her._

"Ow," she exclaimed over exaggerating when her friend kicked her in the shin then nodded towards him.

He looked down at the book when the brunette looked at him. He focused his hearing and could hear the ginger whisper, _"It's him, isn't it?"_

" _Uh-Huh."_

" _Go talk to him."_ He heard another kick.

" _No."_

" _Jesus, Beca,"_ the ginger dramatically sighed. "Excuse me," she said in a loud voice. "As-Time-Goes-By-guy," she added. He looked up.

"This is my friend that sings the song," she told him.

He smiled at her. "I bet she sounds great singing classic jazz songs judging from how great she sounded singing that pop song— how does it go?"

"Baby I like it. The way you move on the floor. Baby, I like it. Come on and give me some more. Oh yes, I like it. Screaming like never before. Baby, I like it. I, I, I like it," Chloe sang suggestively and this time was the one to get kicked.

"I know you," he nodded at the brunette.

"No, you don't," she countered.

"Yeah, I do. We _met_ at a bar on your birthday," he told her.

"Right, Becs. He's the guy you made out with," her friend backed him up.

"He shoved his tongue down my throat, doesn't mean he knows me," she shrugged.

" _I_ shoved my tongue down your throat?" he arched an eyebrow. She nodded. "I remember things differently," he said in amusement.

"I was drunk, okay?" she sighed. "My memory from that night is all foggy and _weird._ "

"I'm not judging you." He held his hands up. "I am, however, Jesse," he introduced himself.

"I'm Chloe," Chloe said when Beca didn't say anything back. "She's Beca." She nodded at her friend.

"Pleasure," Jesse politely nodded at them.

"Is that in Irish?" Beca asked when her eyes fell on the book he was holding.

"Yep," he nodded. "You speak Irish?"

"Yeah, I know a little Gaeilge," she told him, calling the Irish language by its native name.

"This one is in Goídelc, actually."

"That's Old Irish, right?" she checked. He nodded.

"Did you study Irish or something?" he was asking next.

"Not really. I speak a little that's all." She paused. "My grandma taught me. Well, it was either I spoke Irish or she wouldn't acknowledge me," she deadpanned.

"She seems like a lot of fun," Jesse said as he eyed her up and down grateful for the sunglasses he was wearing that allowed him to ogle. She was well put together, in adorable, formal clothes that showed her distinctive fashion sense.

"She _was_." She nodded.

"How do you know Irish, Jesse?" Chloe questioned when Beca went quiet as she openly stared at him, rolling over and resting her cheek against her palm and looking between her friend and the man sitting under a tree not far away from them.

"I studied it," he answered.

"The Irish Mythological cycle," Beca said, translating what she read on the cover.

"Yep," Jesse affirmed when she looked up to check if she got it right. "Did your grandma sneak some old Irish when she was teaching you Irish?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Grandma was a strange woman, I wouldn't be surprised if she taught me a dead language." She pulled her phone from her pocket when it chimed with a text.

"I'm gonna get going," Beca said to Chloe.

"Don't forget to wear something nice for hood night," Chloe said. " _Show off your boobs_ ," she whispered and Jesse had to pretend he didn't hear her.

"Why?" Beca frowned.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You gonna have to at least and try to look cute and approachable if you want anyone to view you as girlfriend material."

"That's my cue to leave," Beca deadpanned. She waved briefly at Jesse while she smiled curtly at him before she turned on her heels.

"I won't go with you to adopt a cat when you're lonely and pushing thirty," Chloe hollered watching Beca walk away and laughed when Beca flipped her off.

She tilted her head to look at Jesse who went quiet after small interaction and found him looking at Beca. "four-o-four, five-five-five, o-three-one-one," she said loud enough for him to hear. "Don't call, she hates speaking over the phone. And don't spam her with texts messages, she'll think you're creepy." She watched him tilt his head towards her.

"Wouldn't she mind that I have her phone number without her permission?" he said when she grabbed her novel planning to resume reading it.

She shrugged in response. "Get into a monolog about Old Irish since she's clearly into it: that might help."


	2. Chapter 2

"Benji?" Jesse said as he barged into Benji's bedroom later that day.

"What?" Benji looked up from his laptop as he sat in his desk chair working on an assignment.

"What's hood night?" he asked and grabbed a lightsaber from Benji's bed.

"An annual party A capella groups take turns at throwing," Benji answered.

"Organized nerd singing, nice." He laid on the bed.

"Why do you ask?"

"We're gonna crash their party," Jesse told him. "Get ready."

"You want to crash a party thrown by college students? Uncle Jesse, what is going on with you?" Benji worryingly asked.

Jesse sighed and put the lightsaber aside. "You know how my kind doesn't feel humanly physical _urges_ ," he started to say to which Benji nodded. "Well, last week I was attracted to a girl."

"That can't happen," Benji said in puzzlement. "You said it yourself: vampires don't have sexual urges." He paused. "Hang on, you said last week. You mean the night you came home acting weird?"

"Yep." Jesse hopped off the bed. "I saw her again today. She's going to the party."

"What's your plan?" Benji wondered.

"I _definitely_ don't plan to pursue anything with her cause it's wrong. She could be my great-great-great-granddaughter age wise." He shook his head.

"You don't look like you could be her great-great-great-grandfather." Benji shrugged. "Do you know how old she is?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's twenty-one."

"She's an adult."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm _way_ too old." He paused. "I just want to know her better and just figure this out."

"You should go get Donald to go with you, he's cool and knows how to party and how to be a wingman."

"I don't want him to know yet. Try not to slip in front of him." Benji nodded but Jesse knew how likely Benji was to slip. "And you won't be my wingman."

"I have a paper to write."

"What's it about?"

"Realism in motion pictures."

"Easy, I'll help you with it." Jesse shrugged. "Look, I know asking you to go with me to this party is asking you to step out your comfort zone." Jesse sighed. "I won't drag you against your will. But you stay in most days, I think it would be good for you to step out of your shell every now and then."

"Fine." Benji closed the lid to his laptop.

"One thing first," he paused. "Don't make it weird call me and Uncle Jesse in public."

"It's weird when you've been around since I was a kid _not_ to call you that."

"You will look older than me at some point it'll be weirder then." He patted his shoulder.

* * *

She wasn't there and he was a little disappointed. He couldn't hear her anywhere in the house they were at.

"Here," Benji handed him a red solo cup. "Water," he added when Jesse looked into it.

Water was the one thing he could tolerate because it had no taste.

"Thanks," Jesse thanked him and looked around.

"Maybe she's fashionably late," Benji said sympathetically. He could see how eager and intrigued Jesse was.

"Yeah," Jesse nodded. "She's here," he said spotting her and elbowing Benji harder than he intended and hurt the guy. "I'm so sorry, are you okay?" he worryingly said when Benji held his side in pain.

"Uh huh," Benji nodded suppressing the pain. "I know her," he squeaked. "I have a course with her."

"Why didn't you say so?" Jesse asked.

"How am I supposed to know that she's the one you're talking about?" Benji straightened up. "You didn't exactly describe her."

"You didn't ask," Jesse countered following Beca with his eyes and saw her grab an empty red solo cup and head to a keg to fill it. He couldn't help the smile that crept on his face when she smiled the moment Chloe jumped her from behind hugging her.

"Are you attracted to her right now?" Benji wondered.

"If you mean sexually then no." Jesse snapped his head to look at him. "But I am drawn to her." He paused. "I've always been."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Benji arched an eyebrow.

"I met her before. When she was seven. And, again, when she was fourteen. Her eyes are how I recognized her. I'm really drawn to her eyes. They're almost hypnotic."

"You said she's twenty-one."

"Uh-huh," Jesse nodded and looked back at Beca.

"Meeting her every seven years is quite the coincidence," Benji quipped a few moments later.

"Tell me about it," he mumbled. "C'mon, we going to talk to her."

"We?"

"Yep," Jesse nodded and started making his way towards Beca.

* * *

"Guess who's staring at you right now?" Chloe asked. "No, don't look," she quickly added when Beca was about to tilt her head.

"Who?" she asked.

"I said guess," Chloe insisted. "Oh, he's coming over."

Beca tilted her head and was surprised to Jesse and more surprised to see Benji at a social function. "Benji," she called not hiding her surprise.

"I thought parties weren't your scene," she said, recalling what he had said to her once when she invited him to a party thrown by the Bellas, quickly glancing at Jesse before she looked at Benji.

"I made an exception tonight," he smiled nervously at her. "My cousin just moved here and I wanted to show him around," he lied. Jesse wanted to shake his head at the lie because Benjamin Applebaum was improving and didn't give him heads up.

"Hi," Jesse smiled politely.

"Hi," she reciprocated holding his gaze and smiling back.

He couldn't help but notice the frown that formed on her forehead and wished he could read minds. He wondered if she was experiencing something similar to what he was.

"Are you enrolled in Barden, Jesse?" He heard Chloe ask so he tilted his head to look at her.

"Looks a little old to be in college," Beca noted.

"Yeah, I'm a little old to be in college," he nodded in agreement, resisting the urge to look at her because he didn't want to make her uncomfortable with his staring.

"But he's not that old," Benji chuckled nervously.

Jesse shot him a look that said, 'Get it together.'

"Bet he isn't," Beca thoughtfully said. Chloe arched an eyebrow looking between her best friend and Jesse who were currently staring at each other then looked at Benji and said, "Hey, you do magic right?" she asked.

"Yep," he nodded.

"I think I saw a deck of cards around here, teach me something?" she requested.

"Absolutely. Yeah, sure," he nodded rapidity then looked at Jesse, silently asking if he'd be alright. Jesse understood and nodded in respond.

"Are you in town for long?" Beca asked once Chloe and Benji were gone.

"I just moved here," he lied supporting Benji's lie. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he added unable to resist the urge to know why she was so thoughtful.

"Have we met before?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, on your birthday," he answered.

"No, before that," she paused. "I don't know, I feel like we met before."

"I get that a lot." He shrugged. "I have a familiar face." He smiled warmly at her.

She nodded but didn't seem convinced.

"You came from work?" he asked noting the fact that she was still in the clothes he'd seen her in earlier.

"Yeah," she nodded. "It's not really a job," she sighed. "I'm interning at a record label."

"Record label," he echoed.

"Yeah, I want to produce music for a living."

"I'd love to hear some of your work."

"Well, right now, I'm just getting coffees and burritos." She rolled her eyes. "What do you do?" she asked and sipped from her cup.

"I try not limit myself," he started to say. "I'm into a lot of things." His words got an eye roll.

"You could have said you don't want to tell me, no need to be all vague," she said in amusement.

"That is not the case," he told her. "I really am into a lot of things."

"Such as?"

"I have a degree in linguistics. I am obsessed with history and old civilizations, which is why I studied archeology," he shared with her. "I also like to write music. But nothing like what you aspire to do for a living." He paused. "I'm currently doing research on the effects of marijuana on the appetite," he joked.

"How is that coming?" she asked, holding back a smile not wanting him to know she found what he said funny.

"Pretty well I would say," he shrugged. "I mean the people that volunteered for this research keep falling asleep so that's slowing the process otherwise it's all good."

"So do you, like, give them stoner food?" she said playing along.

"I check Martha Stewart's website for recipes."

"Why Martha?" she asked.

"I like to keep things professional, tasty and most importantly _gangster_." He shrugged.

This time she chuckled. And, he felt accomplished because she seemed like the kind of person that would be difficult to amuse.

"Enough about me, tell me about yourself," he said. "I'm sure there's more than music production."

"Oh, you mean like school?"

"Not necessarily," he shrugged.

"Well, I'm studying for a degree in psychology."

"So psychology is your backup career if music doesn't work out?" he wondered.

"Nope. I'm studying it for personal reasons," she said a little uneasily while eyeing the drink she was holding. He was watching her when she looked up.

"My family has a history of mental illness so I figured a degree psychology would help me watch out for the signs be self-aware if anything happens," she shared with him before she chugged down what was left of her drink.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he apologetically said.

"I can't believe I brought this up," she shook her head. "I'm a fucking idiot," she muttered not knowing he could hear her thanks to his heightened senses.

"Hey, it's fine you brought it up," he assured her. "I admit it's not something you'd bring up to break the ice but I like to believe we broke the ice on your birthday," he smiled at her.

"About that, I just wanna apologize for how I acted both that night and earlier today. I don't usually shove my tongue down strangers' throats. Nor do I get too defensive. It's just so embarrassing and I wanna blame the girls for making me do it but I could have said no—"

"There's no need to apologize," he assured her.

"I harassed you, man. You could be in a relationship."

"You think I'd let you kiss me if I were?" he asked in puzzlement.

"I don't know you and I don't know what you'd do."

"What are you talking about? We totally know each other. So far, we got to first base. We know each other's name. We both speak Irish. You aspire to make records and are studying for a psych degree." He paused.

"You're into a lot of things and are currently trying out recipes on stoners and calling it research," she recalled.

"And." He paused for the effect. "We share the same birthday," he informed her. "October seventh is my birthday, too." He paused. "I think this a sign that we're connected," he jokingly said.

"Two people sharing a birthday isn't at all uncommon," she said after a beat of silence.

"I'm with you on that," he agreed. "But what are the odds of meeting on our shared birthday and making out, which is something you just said is out of character for you?"

She didn't reply so he continued on to say, "I think it's a sign that we're gonna be best friends."

"Wanna know what I think?" she asked.

"I'm dying to know."

"I think you're a weirdo."

"Well, so are you," he shrugged. "It's a good thing we're gonna be best friends." His words got an eye roll that got him to grin. "Can I have your phone number or should I hope we run into each other again?" he asked despite already having her cell phone number.

"Sure," she shrugged. "Might be nice to have someone I could practice Irish with," she figured as she handed him her phone so he could ring himself.

"Beca." They both tilted their head hearing Amy call for Beca. "C'mon, we're headed to the pool."

"Okay," Beca replied.

"You're going swimming?" Jesse asked in surprise.

"No, the empty pool is where we do riff offs," she informed. "It's always like this when we hang out with the Trebles, BU harmonics, and The High Notes: Someone _always_ suggests we do a riff off."

"What's that?" he frowned.

"Uh, we kick ass a capella," she told him. "You could come and watch us."

"I'd love that," he immediately replied.

* * *

"What was he doing with your phone?" Chloe asked once Beca joined her and the rest of the Bellas.

"He was calling himself so he'd have my number," she told her.

"Huh," Chloe turned thoughtful.

"What?" Beca arched an eyebrow.

"I gave him your phone number this morning," she shared with her friend.

"You did what?"

"He was worried you'd be mad. I guess he was serious about wanting your consent." She paused. "He has my blessings. I like him: he's sweet."

"Shut up," Beca laughed. "Let's go kick some ass, shall we?"

* * *

"So, what's her deal, Jesse?" Donald asked as he sat across from Jesse trying to solve a Rubik cube. "And when exactly were you planning to tell me about her?"

"I don't know yet. Until I was sure that it concerned you," Jesse answered without looking up from the book he was reading.

"Do you think she's dangerous?"

"I don't know." Jesse sighed, looking up, irritated with the low-key interrogation. "Even if she is dangerous I don't think she knows it." He closed the book having finished reading it. "I've looked into every single book that might help and I still have nothing. There isn't a mention of a creature that could affect creatures like me the way she did," he said in frustration.

"Maybe she's one of a kind."

"I doubt it," Jesse shook his head. "I mean I have nothing to back me up but I doubt she's an index case."

"Well, whatever is the case, figure it out before this blows up," Donald said to which Jesse nodded. "Just keep me updated. I can't help keep something I'm clueless about under wraps. And Benji can only slip so many times."

"I got it, Donald." Jesse rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest." He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone feeling it vibrate.

He couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips as he read the text message he received from Beca as a reply to his previous text.

 _Jesse [09:41 am]: 'How long should I wait before I call 911?'_ (He texted when she told that she might kill Chloe for planning an intense cardio workout right before heading to the gym.)

 _Beca [11:14 am]: 'You're not funny.'_

"Is it her?" Donald wondered.

"Yeah," Jesse nodded.

 _Jesse [11:14 am]: 'Is this post workout Beca that I'm supposed to avoid?'_

 _Beca [11:15 am]: 'Yes.'_

 _Jesse [11:15 am]: 'Take a warm bath that'll help.'_

 _Beca [11:16 am]: 'That sounds great in theory. Too bad I pulled a muscle thanks to Chloe and I can't exactly move.'_

 _Jesse [11:16 am]: 'Let me just go grab my shining armor and come to the rescue.'_

 _Beca [11:16 am]: 'Fuck off.'_

"You shouldn't get so close to her," Donald advised.

"Are you afraid I wouldn't do the right thing if it turns out that she's dangerous?" Jesse mumbled as he typed back his reply.

 _Jesse [11:17 am]: 'Seriously, do you need a ride home? I don't have a car but I'd be an Olympic champion at giving piggyback rides if that were an Olympic sport.'_

"I'm just saying, you shouldn't get too invested in her as a person."

 _Beca [11:17 am]: 'No need for piggyback rides. Thank you very much. Dad will come pick me up.'_ He frowned when she then sent him a picture of a swallow and bruised thigh.

 _Jesse [11:17 am]: 'What happened?'_

 _Beca [11:18 am]: 'I just told you. I pulled a muscle thanks to Chloe's workout. It's not entirely her fault and mainly mine 'cause I didn't warm up properly and the fact that I had strained it before.'_

 _Jesse [11:18 am]: 'I thought you were using hyperbole.'_

"She's a friend," Jesse looked up to meet Donald as he spoke.

* * *

"You didn't have to come," Beca said to Jesse who was let into the Bellas' house by Cynthia Rose and led to the living room where Beca was lounging after she got home from the hospital later that day.

"It's good to see you, too," he said in respond. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he walked over to the couch.

"I'll be fine in a few days," she told him. "If I needed a babysitter I would have went to dad's place," she said in a loud enough voice her teammates would hear her.

The Bellas were going out to celebrate Fat Amy's birthday—Beca's injury wasn't life threatening and she insisted they went out—But they didn't want her to be alone which was the reason why Chloe took Beca's phone to get Jesse's number and texted him.

Beca knew her friend had another motive but chose to glare knowingly instead of pointing them out because she knew Chloe would deny contacting Jesse because she wanted Beca to hook up with him.

"I'm not here to babysit you." He smiled warmly at her then looked towards the staircase hearing footsteps.

"Amy, right?" he checked spotting Amy.

"Fat Amy," she corrected. "But Amy is acceptable."

"Uh." He paused for a second then unzipped his back bag. "Heard it's your birthday," he said extending a 31-year-old bottle of Jack Daniels. "And I also heard this your favorite liquor." He handed over the bottle that was still its vintage box. "It's ninety proof, drink responsibly."

"Thank you," she accepted it from him and eyed the unexpected birthday gift.

"You are very welcome."

"If she says _mean things_ don't take it personally: Beca doesn't deal well with pain… or anything really," Chloe told Jesse while walking down the stairs.

"Got it," he chuckled.

"I met Jesse a little over a month ago: I don't know him that well, you know? If he turns out to be a psychopath and kills me my blood is on your hands, Chloe," Beca said to her best friend. "All of you," she added scanning the faces of her housemates, teammates, and close friends.

Chloe sighed dramatically then tilted her head towards Jesse. "This is the sort of _things_ I was just telling you about."

* * *

"I can't believe Chloe asked you to come," Beca said in disbelief, once the girls left the house, breaking the brief silence she and Jesse had gotten into. "Is watching movies her idea, too?" she added watching him reached inside his back bag and pull a few Blu-ray cases.

"She didn't want you to be alone. And, no, it's entirely mine."

"What are we watching?" she asked, sighing.

"I brought a few movies to pick from." He showed her the cases. "I think we should watch Casablanca," he stated.

"Is this part of your scheme to rob the house?" she narrowed her eyes at him.

He looked at her in puzzlement.

"Put me in a coma so you'd rob the place?"

"I thought you'd like it… You like the song As Time Goes By. I actually thought you might have heard it on Casablanca."

"You thought wrong on both matters." She pushed herself up, trying to find a comfortable position. "I don't like movies, generally speaking."

He looked at her in disbelief. "You don't like movies?"

Beca shrugged.

"Any movies?"

"Does porn count?"

"What is wrong with you? Not liking movies is like not liking… puppies."

"They just bore me out and I never make it to the end."

"Ending are the best part!" he exclaimed.

"Hey, you don't have to cry," she said amused with his hurt expression then watched him shake his head.

"I'm reevaluating our friendship. Granted we're still getting to know each other and I truly believed we're gonna be fast friends from day one but I'm not sure anymore… I don't think I can be friends with a _movie hater_."

"I don't hate them," she clarified. "It's just that they're predictable." She shrugged. "The guy gets the girl. The kid sees dead people. Darth Vader is Luke's father."

"Well, what do you want to do instead?" he asked dropping the Blu-ray cases inside his back bag.

"Talk about our feelings?" she joked then huffed.

"Are you hurting?" he asked worryingly.

She shook her head. "My butt is sore. Sitting for hours does that _apparently_."

"Lay on your side," he suggested then watched her yawn. "You should probably go to bed, though."

"I think I'm gonna do that." She nodded in agreement.

"I'll help you get to your room and head out then," he figured.

"I'm sorry you had to come all the way here," she apologized. "I swear I didn't know you were coming over until it was too late to tell you not to bother."

"It's okay.—Careful," he said when she supported her weight getting ready to stand up, while he grabbed the crutches the doctor sent her home with.

"I don't need those." She nodded at the things that were supposed to help her walk.

"Of course you do."

"Not really. Dad forced the doctor to make me go home with crutches." She clenched her jaw at the tolerable pain that shot through her body once she was standing. "I hurt my leg in a car accident a couple of years ago. Dad was driving. Guess you could say he still feels guilty about it," she recounted as she began walking in small steps making her way towards the stairs while she avoided moving her hurting leg by dragging it.

"Is the damage in your leg permanent?" he wondered following her.

"Got pins and a titanium rod."

"Ouch," he grimaced.

She waved it off, "doesn't bother me, to be honest. They don't even set off metal detectors when I go through security at airports."

He nodded at her words then climbed the stairs in tow ready to assist her if needed.

"Thanks," she thanked him when he walked in before her into her shared bedroom with Amy and turned the lights on then set the crutches against the nightstand and pushed the duvet aside so she could get under it with minimum effort.

"You're welcome." He ran a hand over his hair thinking of a way he could test some of his serum that he brought along with him on her. "Do you need to take meds?"

"No. I'm good."

"A glass of milk then?"

She took a moment to think about it then said, "You don't have to."

"I'll get you a glass of water, too, in case you wake up thirsty."

"Thanks." He heard her say as he walked out of the room. He dropped just enough of his serum in the milk it wouldn't affect the taste, which was enough to help her injuries heal, he was almost sure she wasn't going to heal and was counting on it—He didn't want think of what would happen if she did miraculously recover. Neither did he want to think of the pain she might experience once the metal in her leg became useless.

"Thanks," Beca thanked Jesse yet again as he stepped into her bedroom.

"You don't have to thank me every time I do something for you."

"I'm not used to anyone doing things for me. It honestly makes me uncomfortable." She shrugged and accepted the milk from him then brought the glass to her lips.

"Shit, I left my phone downstairs," Beca said in realization putting the empty glass on the nightstand.

"I'll get it," he said and left the room to retrieve her phone.

"Here you go," he was saying as he extended his arm to hand the phone over. Her hand brushed over his and it felt like a small tingling pulling him to get a hold of her hand which he did and surprised both of them by his sudden action.

"Um," he paused trying to figure something to say. "Is that a grasshopper?" he asked spotting the tattooed grasshopper on her arm as he turned her arm around so he'd have a better look at it.

"Yeah," she nodded and looked down at her tattoo. "I was sixteen and thought it's cool." She rolled her eyes at her teenage self's choices.

"It's nice," he complimented frowning at the feel of her hand in his. It was a weird sensation which he couldn't describe right nor get enough of.

It had been almost six weeks since her birthday, he could very clearly remember what he felt when they kissed but this time it was different. It was obscure and vague.

"Got any more ink?" he curiously asked while rubbing his thumb against her arm enjoying the strange sensation.

"Uh, yeah," she nodded and showed him the headphone tattoo on her other arm. "I got a couple more on my back," she added nonchalantly as she eyed his hand. He knew she was feeling something, too.

He let go of her hand once her phone that she was holding rang. "It's dad," she informed.

"Don't feel weird about calling if you need anything. I don't live that far," he said trying to ignore the sudden thirst he felt.

"Okay, thank you," she thanked him, smiling at him before she brought her phone to her ear.

"Good night," he said and began making his way out of the room.

* * *

A few days later.

"I saw Beca on campus," Benji announced. "Your serum didn't work on her." He dropped his back bag on the couch. "She was suppressing a lot of pain and walking weird. When I asked her if she's feeling any better she said 'she'll get better eventually'."

Donald overheard Benji talk and peeked his head from the kitchen. "What does this mean?"

"I found in an old transcript that only creatures stronger than my kind wouldn't be affected," Jesse announced his newly found information that was the first useful piece of information he had come across ever since he started to research in hopes of understanding what was going on.

"Guess I've got to make a list of all known creatures that fit the description then start narrowing it down," Jesse figured.

"That could take ages," Donald said.

"Do you suggest something better?" Jesse questioned.

"I suggest you tell her about yourself," he shrugged.

"What?!" Benji exclaimed in surprise while Jesse just frowned.

"You can't tell me that you didn't think about it. It'll make things a lot easier," Donald said, noting Jesse's facial expression.

"Or the exact opposite if she decides I'm crazy and never talks to me again."

"Well, you asked for a suggestion." He stepped back into the kitchen where he was heating up his lunch. "I gave you one."

"Are you going tell her?" Benji asked seeing that Jesse turned thoughtful.

"I don't know," Jesse shrugged.

* * *

AN: Thank you for your feedback, people. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** if my life had a theme song currently it would be totally fucked from spring awakening. I have a ridiculous amount of work to do that is due soon and that I have been half-assing and not anywhere near completing yet here I am writing this instead. I swear I don't even know what to do with myself sometimes.

I hope you guys enjoy this. Positive feedback is super welcomed 'cause the Dopamine and serotonin levels in my brain are so low right now—in other words, I lack motivation and my mood is shit.

Thank you for stopping by. I hope you're having a better day.

 _excuse the typos that I'm sure I made._

* * *

"I don't mean this the wrong way but you look like crap," Benji commented as he set a suitcase on the floor.

"Comes with starving myself," Jesse reminded as he paused the movie he was watching, glancing at the suitcase. "Say hi to your parents."

"Will do," Benji smiled.

"Are you heading out now?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Donald is dropping me off at the airport."

"Have a safe trip," Jesse told the boy while he uncomfortably rotated his neck.

"Thanks." He heard Benji said as he laid on the couch deciding to rest his eyes. Sleep helped when he was starving: it was his own personal 'save energy' mode.

He had been starving himself for almost a month. He could last without a drop of blood for about forty-five days. He was trying to learn to control his thirst better because he simply couldn't let himself go crazy with thirst after every time he'd touch Beca.

* * *

He woke up from his nap to soft knocking on the door. Getting up to get the door, he thought it was Donald having forgotten his keys or something but was wrong.

"Beca," he called barely opening his eyes as it was still daytime and starving Jesse was extra sensible to the sun.

"Wow, you weren't kidding," she said taking in his appearance. During his fast, he thought it would be best if he avoided seeing the reason behind his decision so he settled for only exchanging text messages and told her he was feeling a little under the weather when she invited him to the Christmas party the Bellas were throwing before they headed home for the holidays.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked.

"Yeah," he lied, letting her in and locking the door behind them. "I wouldn't get too close to me if I were you," he said and looked away to cough.

"I got the flu fascine don't worry about me," she assured him as she looked around the house.

"I didn't expect you to visit," he shared with her. "I didn't even know you knew where I live," he added.

"I asked Benji. And it wasn't hard to find. This is the only house outside of town," she informed. "I thought Benji would have mentioned that I asked."

"No, he didn't," Jesse shook his head. _'Or maybe he did and I wasn't listening.'_

"I should have called first," she realized.

"It's fine," he smiled at her. "Do I get you anything? Did you eat? I think we have pizza leftovers from last night."

"No, I'm good. I just came to check up on you and see if _you_ needed anything." She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Thanks, Bec," he thanked her. He was genuinely touched that she cared enough about him to come see him.

"I'll get well soon enough," he told her.

"So you're not running out of drugs that I could go get for you? You do live quite far from town and don't drive a car."

"I got everything I need. Thank you." He made his way to the couch in the living room and sat on it. "How are you spending the break?" he asked when she followed him into the room. "With the girls or with your family?"

"With dad and the step-monster. The girls left this morning to spend the holidays with their families. Amy and Flo went with Stacie to her family's place in New York City."

"New York is beautiful this time of year."

"Yeah, and cold," she added while eyeing a bookcase.

"You weren't kidding when you said you're obsessed with old civilizations," Beca noted reading some of the books' titles.

"I love learning about how things were in the past," he shrugged.

"You also love to learn about what they liked to worship?" she asked noting the huge amount of mythology books.

"I find them interesting," he said. "I like that some religions have uncanny similarities despite the fact they're from different times and places."

"This is the one you were reading on the quad," she was saying as she pulled the book about Irish mythology.

"Yes," he confirmed watching her walk over to where he sat and sat next to him. "It's about the Mythological Cycle, it recounts the tales of the Godlike people. It's one of the four cycles of early Irish literary," he said as she flipped through the pages.

"Grandma used to tell me Irish folk tales before bed," she shared with him. "Wonder if they're mentioned in here."

"I read the book I can tell you if they're mentioned," he offered.

"There's one about these three sisters that could turn into cows and could foretell death. Grandma loved to talk about them. She talked so much about them I started having dreams about them and crows when I was a kid," she chuckled.

"The Morrígan," Jesse said and flipped through the pages until they got to the one about The Morrígan.

"But this is just one person," Beca said after she read the first paragraph.

"It's a tale, Beca, there are different versions of it. Especially when it's as old as this one," he shrugged. "Did you live with your grandma? You seem close."

"She lived in the north-east, we used to go over there during the summer," she said and closed the book.

He nodded, refraining from asking about details. "You can take the book if you want," he told her. "Tell me if you find other stories you know," he smiled at her when she looked up.

"Thanks," she thanked him. He caught the way she glanced down at his lips so he pulled his head back realizing he was in her personal space.

She cleared her throat and looked back at the bookcase. "Are all these books in their native language?" she asked in puzzlement.

"I like to read the original print because sometimes they don't translate them correctly into English."

"How many languages do you speak?"

"So far seventeen," he shared.

"Wow, that's a lot." She looked up.

He shrugged in response. "Not really, there people out there who speak over fifty languages."

"Okay, Mr. Humility," she said in amusement then frowned once he got into a coughing fit.

"Excuse me," he said and got up having coughed blood. He made his way to the bathroom where he washed his hands and tried to freshen up by washing his face.

"Did the doctor give you anything for the coughing?" Beca asked watching him walk back into the room in heavy steps.

He shook his head and sat down, closing his eyes as he leaned against the couch. He heard her put the book on the coffee table then felt the back of her hand against his cheek. The mystical energy her touch brought felt heavenly. "You don't have a fever," she noted as she removed her hand consequently intensifying his thirst.

He squeezed his eyes shut then sat up and held his head with one hand.

"Dude, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he answered. "Just a headache." He clenched his fist when he felt his fangs come out without him extracting them.

"You look like you're in a lot of pain, Jesse! Fuck, tell me what I can do to help," she worryingly said hearing him groan out agony.

Hearing the front door get unlocked Beca tilted her head and saw Donald step inside the house.

"What's going on here?" Donald asked once his eyes fell on Jesse.

"I don't know," Beca said as he got closer to them.

"Did you touch him?" Donald asked.

"What?" Beca frowned at the question.

"Did you touch him?" Donald repeated his question while eyeing Jesse.

"Yeah, I was checking his temperature."

"Hold his hand," Donald said to her before he ran out of the room and headed to the basement.

Beca reached for his fist and put her hand over it after failing to make him open his fist. He interlocked their fingers as the thirst began to fade and he could retract his fangs. He knew it was temporary.

Jesse sucked a deep breath then opened his eyes while tilting his head and found Beca eyeing their hands.

"What was that just now?" she asked looking up.

"I honestly have no idea," he answered. He really didn't know why her touch affected him the way it did.

She looked skeptical.

"Here," Donald was saying as he walked back into the room holding a red solo cup that contained blood.

Jesse took it from him and shook it, having no desire to consume it. "Thanks," he said holding Donald's gaze.

"Sure," Donald nodded tilting his head to look at Beca. "Hi, I'm Donald, Jesse and Benji's housemate," he introduced himself. "I've heard _so much_ about you." He extended his arm to shake hands with her.

"Beca," she said shaking his hand briefly.

"I'll be upstairs," Donald said to Jesse. "You guys look like you might have things to talk about," he was saying before he turned on his heels and headed to the stairs.

Jesse took a few moments to make his decision then said. "I've been trying to understand what physical contact does to both of us and why." She looked between their hands and him.

"I still don't know what it is," he sighed. "Researching it without knowing how it makes you feel has been difficult."

"It's weird, I thought I was imagining it," she said after a beat. "It's like some sort of an energy making its way out of me and onto you," she tried to explain.

Hearing her words Jesse tried to pull his hand away, thinking he was hurting her.

"No, it feels good," she told him, tightening her hold. "How is it for you?" she curiously asked.

"I feel human," he curtly said.

She frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Right," he said. "I'm not human." He paused. "And I'm pretty sure you're not entirely human either." He loosened his hold when he felt her pulling her hand away.

"Although, I'm not a fan of the term: I'm what you call a vampire." He paused. "You must either be thinking I'm crazy or I'm joking. I'm not. I'm very serious. And if you'd let me, I'd like to prove it to you." He watched her get up.

"Okay, show me," she said crossing her arms, thinking he was making fun of her.

"Anything a human being does I do times ten." He began to feel the intense thirst. "The reason I'm not feeling well is that I haven't had any blood in a month," he explained and paused closing his eyes as he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, knowing that drinking too much wouldn't make the thirst go away.

"You might be wondering how come I can walk during the day," he said uneasily and got up. "I'll get awful burns if I stay in the sun for long because my skin is sensitive."

"How do you avoid getting sunburn?" Beca asked and followed him to the kitchen "Sunscreen," he told her. "A lot of it. And it barely works." He drew the curtains and closed eyes unable to stand sunlight then turned around and pulled his t-shirt over his head, tossing it away.

"I'm not wearing any sunscreen right now," he informed, clenching his jaw when the sun began to do its magic.

Beca cautiously stepped closer to him as the smell of burnt flesh began to fill the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked when he stepped away from the sun, grabbed a knife, and walked over to the sink

"I'm showing you how fast I can heal. You don't have to look as I stab my hand if it makes you uncomfortable," he told her, giving her some time to look away before he stabbed through his flesh.

Instead of looking away she stepped closer to him and eyed him as he winced pulling the knife away and putting in the sink. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the way the wound started to heal.

"Are fangs a thing?" she asked next as he washed the blood off his hand once it healed which took barely a minute.

He nodded grabbing the knife to wash it as well. "They grew longer after I became a vampire. But not overnight. It took a while." He exposed them for her to see before retracting them with difficulty.

"What do you do for blood?"

"I steal from the local blood bank." He held onto the sink and closed his eyes again trying not to let the thirst control him as he took another sip from his red solo cup.

"What did you mean when you said I'm not entirely human?" she wondered.

"Plasma extracted from my blood heals any kind of illness," he said clearing his throat as he struggled to control his intense thirst for blood. "I spent some time reading about my kind because I had nothing, to begin with when it came to you: I found out that only a creature stronger than me wouldn't heal when injected with my serum," he cautiously said.

"I don't remember being injected with your serum." She frowned.

"The glass of milk," he curtly said referring to the glass he gave her the night he went to see her when she pulled a muscle.

Beca watched him as he struggled to stay put then pulled a chair and took a seat.

"How old are you _really?_ " she asked.

"I stopped aging at twenty-eight," he began to say. "Back in eighteen twenty-one," he added.

"So you're one hundred and eighty-nine years old," she said after doing the mental math.

"Yes." He stayed quiet while it all sank in. He didn't know what to expect but he didn't expect silence.

"What do you want from me?" she asked frowning when he started to cough.

"Nothing," he answered and cleared his throat. "I won't hurt you if that's what you're worried about." He looked up. "I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone you don't trust to keep this to themselves because I don't want to attract people here."

"What kind of people?" She watched him grab a napkin and clean the blood he coughed off his hand.

"People who would want to know what you really are once they learn you're stronger than me." He grabbed the cup and chugged down the blood inside it.

"I won't tell anyone. I mean madness runs in my family no one would believe me. They'd tell me to check myself into an asylum." She shrugged.

"Don't say that."

"It's inevitable, Jesse. I will go crazy at some point. Mom went nuts. Grandma wasn't completely crazy but she was so weird and would check off sometimes. Uncle Noah tried to kill himself four times so far and is currently in a mental intuition." She paused. "I could be making all this up in my head. This could be a hallucination!"

"Hey, stop," he said realizing she was building up to a panic attack. "Beca, you're fine. I'm real. You're not going crazy." He pushed himself up and walked over to her. "You'd be in denial if you were actually starting to fall ill," he reasoned as he held her shoulders, trying to keep his eyes opened despite being in the sun.

She rubbed her face and inhaled deeply before tilting her head to look at him.

"You're not going crazy," he repeated squeezing her shoulders. He had sunburns that seemed painful in her opinion. She looked at his hands that were shaking while he held her then watched him removed them and step back.

She took a deep breath then hesitantly reached for his hand and took it in hers and saw the drastic change in him in mere seconds. His skin no longer suffered from sunburns. His hands stopped shaking.

"What happens to you when I let go?" she asked feeling him rub his thumb against her skin.

"I become so thirsty it hurts every inch of my body," he informed looking behind her and outside of the window with no difficulty. "Wanna tell me what it's like for you when we break contact? Do you feel any change?" he asked, looking back at her.

"I feel tired." She shrugged.

"I'm taking something from you," he guessed. "The energy you feel leaving your body that's what's making you tired."

"Donald knows about you." Jesse nodded at her statement.

"He works for the Supernatural Intelligence and Analysis Agency," he informed her. "It's a top secret government agency that deals with all sort of supernatural beings."

"If it's top secret why are you telling me?" she asked.

"The people he works for would want you to know because you concern them."

"Why does he live with you?"

"He's assigned to babysit me 'cause the SIAA is paranoid I'd go bananas and start to kill people left and right," he sighed. "They mean well but admittedly it gets annoying sometimes."

"Will they send someone to babysit me, too?"

"Probably," he answered. "Fingers across you don't get an asshole."

"And if I refuse?"

"They will send one anyway but they'll watch you from a distance," he told her. "Having them around isn't that bad." He shrugged. "Donald is actually a good friend. I was friends with the ones I got before him."

"What about Benji?"

"I'm an ancestor of his." He frowned watching her run a hand over her hair. She was having a hard time processing what he was dropping on her. He then looked at their hands and said, "I know you have so many questions that I will answer. But we don't know what's actually happening and what sort of impact it has on you." He swallowed. "I'll deal with my thirst and come find you. Would that be okay?" he asked. "I'll understand if you want to take some time to think or if you decide we stop being friends."

"I have a question and your answer will determine whether or not we can continue to be friends and like figure this out," she held their hands up.

"Yeah, of course." He nodded.

"Do you under any circumstances sparkle?" she asked. "I can't associate myself with you if you sparkle."

"No," he laughed in spite of himself. "No, I don't sparkle. You saw what sunlight does to me."

"I had to check," she shrugged.

"Okay," he nodded pleased with the outcome then loosened his hold so she'd pull her hand from his. She tightened her hold and turned around to draw the curtains closed then let go of his hand.

She was rubbing her palm while he crossed his arms across his chest and followed her out of the kitchen.

"The book," he said clearing his throat as the thirst reemerged.

"Right," she nodded and grabbed it.

He watched her pull the door behind her then ran down to the basement.

* * *

It took him a month to get back to his normal self which was great because; a- Beca had told him she wanted some time to think: he suggested a month: she agreed—he was going to meet her _stable_. b- He tried not to drink all the blood bags he had in storage in one sitting and instead drank only bag a week, which was his actual diet, and succeeded, proving to himself that he had decent self-control.

It was raining outside as he grabbed a jacket and headed out of his bedroom.

"Are you going out?" Benji asked once Jesse joined him and Donald in the kitchen.

"Yeah," Jesse nodded. "I'm going to see Beca. I still have to explain things to her." He turned to Donald. "Please, don't report yet."

Donald nodded in respond. "I know. As long as she doesn't do any supernatural, I can delay reporting."

"I can work with that," Jesse said watching Donald pour coffee into his mug then wearing his pair of sunglasses. "Too-da-loo," he said and turned on his heels.

"Man, this guy is old," Donald mumbled bringing the coffee to his lips.

* * *

"Do you eat regular food?" Beca asked breaking the silence as she and Jesse on the porch swing at the Bellas' house.

"All my senses are heightened. Food is too much. I could eat it but it would be like if it had ten times more the taste." He crossed his arms as he began to swing them back and forth with his foot.

"A month without talking to each other was good, you know?" she was saying as she brought her mug of hot chocolate to her lips. "It helped me wrap my mind around what you are. I'm still having trouble believing but I'm open to the concept of the world different that the one I'm used to." She looked up.

"It's good to see you, Bec," he said meeting her gaze.

"You, too," she smiled curtly at him. "When will you brag about your abilities, Superman?" she asked.

"Well, I can't exactly show you _here_." He looked around them. "Where anyone walking by could see."

"Then tell me, in theory, how fast can you run," she shrugged.

"Well, I'm no Barry Allen but I can keep up with a car."

"Who's Barry Allen?" she frowned.

"The Flash?"

"I'm not familiar with him."

"He's a DC superhero that runs fast hence they call him the flash," he explained to which Beca nodded.

"What about your senses, you say anything humans do you do times ten?"

"Yeah. Like I see better—no x-ray vision, sadly— I can hear so well… Right now I can hear your neighbors arguing over whose turn it was to take the trash. I can smell the pancakes your neighbor is making while he belts out to Backstreet Boys' Shape of My Heart."

"Last time I saw you were sick because you haven't had blood in a month, why?" she wondered and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

"Your touch leaves me thirsty I decided to starve myself in an attempt to teach myself how to control my thirst better."

"Then I came and made it worse," she finished for him. "When you say thirsty as in thirsty for my blood or is it general?"

"Just thirsty and worst part is that no amount of blood seems to suffice when I get like that. Only time fixes it."

"So you just wait for it to fade?" she guessed to which he nodded. "How do you reproduce?"

"For your own good, you shouldn't know," he uneasily said. She frowned. "There are people who badly want to become like me but are unfit. We try to keep them from knowing how it happens… I don't want you to risk dealing with this sort of people but I will tell you if it really matters that you know."

"Not really, I'm just curious. Just tell me this: Can it happen without one's consent?"

He nodded.

"Well that _sucks_ ," she noted. "Did you willing become one?"

He shook his head. She wanted to know more but could tell from the breath he let out that it would be best if she didn't ask.

"Did you ever turn humans into vampires?"

"Yes, I have turned six people in the past but it was never against their will."

Beca nodded and rubbed her thumb against the mug she was holding as she eyed the empty street.

"Hey, I never got around to apologize about putting my serum in your glass of milk. I hated doing it without your permission but I also couldn't allow myself to drag you in my world before I knew for sure that it has a place for you."

"Apology accepted," she said accepting his genuine apology. "So, this feels weird," she said as she brought the mug to her lips.

"You'll warm up to it," he assured. "Assuming you still want to be friends and understand why you don't respond to my serum and why you affect me the way you do."

"I still want to be friends and I do want to figure things out." she was quick to say. "I was just thinking of the fact that I made out with a hundred-and-eighty-nine-year-old man."

"It's gross, I know," he sighed.

"The worst part is that I'm not grossed out!" She tilted her head to look at him.

"Well, I do look twenty-eight," he quipped.

"Is there something other than the heightened senses and the skin sensitivity?"

"Um, I'm asexual," he informed.

"I made out with a hundred-and-eighty-nine-year-old asexual vampire," she corrected herself, sighing.

"Thing is that when we kissed I was very attracted to you," he informed her. "I haven't felt sexual attraction to a person in my years of existing as a vampire… I think it's part of how you made me feel human with physical contact."

"How are we gonna do this?" she asked a few moments later, fixating on a tree across the street.

"I'll continue to research while we try to get whatever power you possess to manifest."

"Am I going to have to pull any sort of physical effort?" she asked.

"Highly possible."

"Fuck," she cursed.

"Your thing is inherited."

She tilted her head to look at him. "What makes you think that?"

"Because I tried my serum on your mother and it didn't work," he informed. "You weren't wrong at hood night, we did meet before: twice. On your seventh birthday and I helped you find your cat, Agatha. On your fourteenth birthday and you were at the hospital with your mom and asked me if I could come check up on your mother 'cause you thought I was a doctor."

"You wished me a happy birthday," she said recalling the very vague memory of the doctor that wished her a happy birthday without telling him it was her birthday.

"Yeah, when you were seven you told me it was your birthday that night."

"This is _so_ weird."

He nodded in agreement. "Those who inherit powers usually have a trigger that sets them off. We just have to find your trigger," he tried to explain.

"Okay."

"Now, as I said before I have no idea what you really are but I have some theories in regards of your trigger."

"Shoot," she said in anticipation.

"You said mental illness runs in your family, right?"

"Yeah, Mom's side."

"What if the mental illness is the result of not triggering the power you possess?"

Beca frowned at his theory. "So you're saying that this _power_ you speak of makes us go crazy because it wants out?"

"Yeah, basically," he nodded.

"How am I supposed to learn how to set it off?" she asked.

"That's what we're going to figure out," he sighed.

"What's up?" Beca asked when Jesse sat up and looked away from her as he inhaled through the nostrils.

"There's a gas leak." He stood up. "And it's not far," he added before he began to walk away.

"Wait, I'm coming with you," Beca said getting after him.

"I didn't pick it up sooner 'cause the smell of your shampoo is nice and distracting." He looked around them before he picked his pace running believably fast while Beca followed him at a much slower pace.

The house was a few blocks away. Getting there, Beca was breathless. The front door was broken, she guessed Jesse broke it.

"Call nine-one-one." She heard Jesse say as he carried two passed out women over his shoulders.

"On it," Beca said while pulling her phone from her pocket. She looked up when he put the women on the ground and turned on his heels running unbelievably fast inside the house.

By the time Beca had hung up the phone Jesse had gotten everyone from inside the house including the family dog. He went back to turn off the gas meter and air the house while Beca stayed outside with the passed out family that Jesse assured were still alive.

"I'm gonna get going," Jesse said as he joined Beca on the sidewalk. "I can't stay."

"Well, how am I supposed to explain getting an entire family out?" Beca asked gesturing at the family.

"Tell them that I, your super awesome friend that saved the day, left," he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking up to see an ambulance. "I'll text you."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Thank you for your for your feedback on the previous chapter. For some reason, we got a new deadline for the work I was so stressed out about which is awesome and I can sleep now and drink less coffee. I hope you enjoy this. Leave your thoughts and theories if you got any in a review. Let's see if anyone figures it out eventually.

* * *

She was on a cliff looking down at the waves as they hit the rocks. It was thrilling and scary. As she backed away a horde of crows flew up. She watched them as they made their way to the sky then frowned seeing that one of the crows stayed behind and was relatively close. She found herself following it after a while. She could see what seemed like an old house from a distance. As she got closer she realized that it was in bricks and was actually a dome. The crow set on the roof and continued to cow. She looked at the entrance and wasn't curious enough to get inside because it was dark and spooked her a little.

She looked up at the crow when it kept cowing. The cowing felt directed to her. And, if she didn't know better she'd say that the brainless animal was actually looking at her.

She held her arms up in defense to cover her face when the crow flew directly at her and closed her eyes shut.

When she opened her eyes she was in her shared bedroom with Amy.

Amy wasn't in bed and she wasn't surprised that her roommate wasn't home yet—she wouldn't be surprised if she wouldn't come home at all that night.

Beca sat up and closed the book she fell asleep reading before she climbed out of bed and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

It was late in the night and she fell asleep before she got around to eat dinner. She found some chicken salad in the fridge so she grabbed it planning to make herself a sandwich. Setting the bowl on the kitchen she turned on her heels to get the bread and a knife which she also put on the kitchen island. Remembering the mayonnaise she pulled it from the fridge.

Beca reached for the knife while she grabbed the bread and arched an eyebrow when couldn't find it. Tilting her head she saw that it was a few inches away from her reach, a few inches away from where she had set it. She reached for it again and watched the way it moved further away then fall from the kitchen island.

"What the fuck," she mumbled walking around the kitchen island. She put her foot on the knife then bent and grabbed it before she straightened up.

She set it on the kitchen island and watched it for a few seconds then reached for it again.

"What the actual fuck?" she said seeing that it moved _again_. She didn't know what to think. The knife couldn't possibly have a mind of its own. It was a fucking knife. She decided to use a spoon to spray the mayo on the bread, before she put the chicken salad, instead.

As she munched on the sandwich she kept eyeing the knife. She was taking a sip of water when she got an idea and decided to go for it because what the hell.

It was stupid but she wanted to see if she could make the knife move just by commanding it to move—Jesse did tell her she wasn't entirely human and as hard as that was to believe, she was curious and wanted to give it a try. Her almost two centuries old friend had provided her with more proof to back his story up feeling her uncertainty which she appreciated greatly.

Beca took a deep breath then held her hand vertically and thought to herself because it would be extra lame and stupid if she said it out loud, _'All right, move to the left.'_ and simultaneously moved her hand to the left.

"Oh my fucking God!" she exclaimed when the knife did move slightly to the right. She went on to move her hand to the other way while thinking of moving the knife to the right and it fucking did.

Feeling bold, she decided to move upwards from the kitchen island.

She exhaled through the nostrils when it barely moved. She wanted to fucking levitate.

She didn't know if she should be glad and freaked out when it did do as she wanted and levitated mere centimeters away from the kitchen island.

She moved her hand slowly higher and the knife moved upwards a little more.

"Okay," she nodded. "This interesting and not crazy at all," she said watching the knife. "I'm not crazy," she added swallowing before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The knife was still in the air, a few centimeters away from the kitchen island, where she had left it, once she opened her eyes.

She tried to move it higher but the knife kept trembling and wouldn't do what she wanted it to do and she figured she'd have to practice.

Sighing, she let it down by thinking about it then thought about pulling it towards her. She picked it up when it did slide her way then brought the sandwich to her mouth and took a bite.

Beca tilted her head hearing the front door then watched Amy step into the kitchen.

"Flatbutt," she greeted in surprise.

"Hey, Amy," Beca said in response as she put the knife down while considering to show Amy what she had just done then decided it would be best to keep it away from her friends until she understood what was happening first.

"What's keeping you up this late? You usually pass out around ten," Amy was saying as she walked to where her friend stood.

"I got up to snack," she informed to which Amy nodded and said, "I could use a snack."

"Knock yourself out." Beca moved out of the way and sat on a stool.

"Do we have Barbie sauce?" Amy asked.

"Yeah," Beca nodded.

When Amy went to get the barbecue sauce from the fridge, Beca decided to check if she was really going crazy and what had happened with the knife was a figment of her imagination. She held her hand upwards and thought about moving the knife until it fell off the kitchen island and watched as it fell. She then followed Amy with her eyes and watched her look around the kitchen island.

"I thought I saw a butter knife," she said. "Oh, there it is," she added spotting it on the floor. She quickly washed it and used it to cut the bread.

Beca breathed a sigh of relief as she swallowed the last bite of her sandwich.

"What?" Beca asked when Amy kept looking at her.

"Are you wearing contact lenses?" she frowned leaning forward.

"Why I would I do that? My sight is fine."

"Not that kind of contact lenses," Amy shook her head. "I meant cosmetic contact lenses. Your eyes are dark."

"My pupils are naturally large, you know that," Beca said and got on her feet.

"Shark eyes, right," Amy nodded bringing the sandwich to her mouth.

"I'm going to bed," Beca announced after stifling a yawn.

She made a stop at the bathroom to brush her teeth and frowned leaning closer to the mirror: her eyes were dark. Her navy blue iris were _dark._ Amy was right.

If the knife situation didn't freak her out this did. She paced to her bedroom and grabbed her phone to take pictures. If she thought her mind was playing tricks on her and Amy wasn't in her right mind either, the camera couldn't lie.

Her eyes were dark. Disturbingly dark. Unnaturally dark. Inhumanly dark.

She was well aware that the darkest human eyes could get was a dark shade of brown but currently, her eyes were _black._

She took a seat on her twin bed and tried to control her breathing and reason with herself. _'I did just move a fucking knife around with my mind.'_

She tapped on her messaging app icon and tapped on Jesse's name deciding to tell him what had happened.

 _Beca 1:10 am: 'Are you up?'_

She anxiously waited for a while for him to answer. When he didn't reply, she tossed her phone on the bed and walked back to the bathroom to eye her eyes some more. Still black.

* * *

"Hey, Beca, in what language is this?" Amy was asking as Beca stepped back into the room.

"Old Irish," Beca answered her glancing at her friend who was sitting on her bed flipping through the book she had fallen asleep reading—she could see why Jesse found this sort of books interesting: the content of the book intrigued her.

"You know Old Irish?" Amy frowned.

"Yeah, more than I thought I did," Beca nodded reaching to grab her phone when it chimed with a text.

 _Jesse 1:21 am: 'Yes. Is everything okay?'_

She didn't know how to answer him. She didn't know if she should sum up what happened or if she should give him a detailed version.

 _Beca 1:23 am: 'I don't know. I'm hoping you could tell me. Can I see you?'_

 _Jesse 1:23 am: 'I'm on my way.'_

 _Beca 1:24 am: 'No. Don't come to the Bellas' house. I'll come over to your place.'_

The girls constantly teased her about her friendship with Jesse because of how they met. She didn't want to explain to Amy why he'd come over in the middle of the cold night nor did she want to put up with the teasing she was going to receive once the rest were informed.

 _Jesse 1:24 am: 'Okay.'_

Beca put her phone down and quickly grabbed a beanie along with a sweatshirt to wear over her t-shirt.

"Going out?" Amy asked watching her pace around the room.

"Yeah." Beca slipped on her slippers.

"Is everything okay?" Amy asked watching Beca wear a sweatshirt.

"Yeah, yeah." She picked her phone and walked out the room, grabbing Chloe's car keys and heading out of the house.

* * *

Jesse sat across from her on the coffee table in the living room while she sat on the couch.

"How dark?" he asked after Beca finished filling him in while he carefully listened.

"Here see for yourself," she said and reached into her pocket and pulled her phone, quickly tapping to get to her gallery.

"Did you feel the change?" he asked while zooming in on the picture she took that clearly backed what she had told him.

"No," she shook her head then took off her beanie realizing she was still wearing it despite being behind closed doors in a very warm house. "I didn't notice when they turned blue either." She rubbed her face.

"You said it followed your hand movement when you thought about it."

She nodded.

"And this is the first time you ever used Telekinesis."

"Yes."

"You think you could do it again?" he asked.

"I could try." She shrugged then watched him run to the kitchen and back in a speed that she had yet to get used to.

He set a butter knife on the coffee table and stepped back.

Beca took a deep breath then gave it a try. "It's not working." She gave up after a couple of tries.

"Tell me what you were doing before you did the thing with the knife."

"I was asleep, I told you."

"Before that."

"I was up in my bedroom working on a mix. When I got bored I grabbed the book you gave me to read and fell asleep reading it."

"Nothing else?" he checked.

"I had this weird dream."

"What dream?" he asked intrigued and sat back on the coffee table facing her.

"I dreamed that I was near this cliff then a bunch of crows flew up and went away except for one that only moved when I followed it. Took me to this weird creepy dome then kept cowing at me. Felt like it was telling me to get in. I didn't. I flew right at me. I woke up."

"You remember the whole dream," he noted.

"Yeah," she shrugged.

"That doesn't usually happen. One usually forgets parts of the dream but you remembered." He paused. "Was it vivid?"

"It woke me up."

"Do you know the place in your dream. It could be a subconscious thing."

Beca shook her head. "I had dreams about crows before. I'd dreamed about 'em since I was a kid. From a psychological perspective, it could be a sign of stress or unsolved conflicts." She paused to sigh.

"Which one is it?" he asked.

"I don't have any unsolved issues," she firmly said.

"Don't you have classes tomorrow?" he asked changing the subject because she needed to relax and they wouldn't get anywhere when she was clearly too stressed out.

"Not going."

He frowned.

"The professor doesn't count attendance."

"Right, that means you don't have to go to their course." She was bouncing her leg up and down as he spoke.

"I'm gonna make you some tea," he decided. "It'll help you relax."

* * *

"Were you doing something important when I texted you?" Beca asked when Jesse was handing her a mug of tea.

"No," he answered. "I was working on a piece," he informed her.

"Can I hear it?" she asked.

"Sure," he shrugged and walked away. Beca guessed he went to get the music sheet.

When he came back he was holding a folder and a guitar.

"The guys are asleep: the piano is too loud," he said as he took a seat. He tossed the folder on the coffee table after grabbing a sheet.

"What is it for?" she asked.

"For me," he shrugged before he began to play her the two-minutes-long piece.

Beca watched how swiftly his fingers moved as he strummed the instrument as he eyed the tablature he had written.

"Do you like it?" Jesse asked when Beca didn't give him her feedback and instead continued to stare at his hands.

"It's amazing," she said looking up. "What inspired it?" she wondered.

"An elderly couple I saw at the hospital last week," he told her as he set the guitar aside.

"Well, I think it's very heartfelt," she added realizing her previous answer was a bit generic and shallow.

"Thanks," he smiled at her and watched her take a sip from the tea then tilted his head to look out of the window hearing thunder.

"So, the book put you to sleep, huh?" he asked tilting his head back to look at Beca.

"I wasn't bored with it, just tired," she told him. "Where did you find a book in Old Irish?" she wondered.

"I got it on a trip to Ireland a few decades ago. I lent it to a friend who needed it for their thesis research and only got it back recently." He leaned against the couch. "To research what's going on. It's a dead end. None of the tales hint at anything similar to what you do to me."

"Hold on, are you saying the stories in _that book_ are real?" she asked.

"No one really knows what's true and what isn't," he sighed. "Most myths have some truth to them. Some are close to reality while others are completely wrong. I try to read about all mythologies I could find and connect the dots." He shrugged.

"That sounds like a lot of work."

"I have all the time in the world," he told her.

"Why, though?" she frowned. "Why do you research myths? What are you looking for, Jesse?" she asked.

He took some time before he answered, "I want to know if there's a way to undo _the spell_ my body is under."

"You're looking for a way to become human?"

He nodded. "No one has all the answers. No one really knows how my kind was initially created." He paused. "I decided to look for answers myself. Ideally, I'd find a way but even if I don't, it's fine. I'm learning a lot anyway."

"Jesse, you want to give up immortality? Why would you want that?" She frowned.

"I didn't wish for immortality. And as amazing it sounds, being like myself becomes boring after a while," he answered her with a smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes.

Beca nodded understanding where he was coming from.

"I should get going," Beca decided glancing out of the window hearing thunder strike again.

"It's gonna start raining. You could spend what's left of the night in one of the spare rooms. I'll wake you up early enough you could go back to your place to get ready and go get your college education." Beca rolled her eyes at the last bit. "I don't condone slacking school," he shrugged.

"Okay, grandpa," she nodded. "I keep forgetting how old you really are."

"When do you want me to wake you up?" he snorted.

"Seven am is good," she told him. She didn't want to overstay her welcome nor was she very comfortable spending the night at his place or anyone's. She liked sleeping in her bed. But it was cold and she was tired and the house seemed huge so she wouldn't really be bothering him or his housemates.

"Hey, don't tell Donald what happened with the knife. He will report once he gets a whiff of supernatural activity and I think it's best if SIAA stays out of it until we know a bit more."

"Okay," Beca nodded.

"Don't tell Benji either he unable of keeping anything a secret."

* * *

Beca had just gotten home and was climbing up the stairs when she saw Chloe exit the bathroom a towel wrapped her.

"Hey, you," Chloe greeted.

"Morning," Beca said.

"Did you spend the night out?" the redhead asked noting her friend's appearance.

"Uh-huh," Beca answered.

"Where were you?" Chloe arched an eyebrow then grinned when Beca avoided eye contact. "Better yet who were you with?"

She should have come up with a story in case she ran into any of the Bellas but she didn't expect any of them to be up early.

"You spent the night at Jesse's didn't you?" Chloe guessed.

Beca stayed quiet as she thought of a story then rolled her eyes hearing Chloe squeal. "Oh, Becs, _FINALLY_!"

"Hang on, it's not what you think," she said. "There's nothing going on between Jesse and me."

"I don't get why you keep insisting there's nothing going on between you and him. I'm glad you found someone. And I don't really care that you want to keep it low key. I'm just really happy for you."

"Chloe, I'm serious. There is nothing going on. He's a friend."

"You look like you barely had any sleep. What were you up doing with him? _Practicing_ Irish?"

"This is pointless," Beca realized before she walked away.

* * *

She ended up going to the damn course.

Taking notes instead of borrowing for a change was nice.

Beca was gathering her stuff and planning to go grab a bite when her cell phone chimed with a text.

 _Jesse 11:55 am: 'Are you free?'_ She read as she made her way out of the room.

 _Beca 11:55 am: 'For a couple of hours.'_

 _Jesse 11:56 am: 'Meet you at your place?'_

 _Beca 11:56 am: 'Okay.'_ She shoved her phone in her pocket figuring she would buy lunch on her way home.

* * *

"Hey, is everything okay?" Beca asked spotting Jesse standing on the sidewalk near the Bellas' house.

He nodded. "Could you grab that book you borrowed?" he requested.

"Yeah, sure. It's in my room." She reached inside her bag for her keys. "C'mon in," she added when he didn't follow her.

* * *

"Here's your book. What's up?" Beca asked as she handed him the book.

"I thought back at how you know Old Irish without realizing it and the bedtime stories your grandma used to tell you about The Morrígan." He took the book from her. "Your dreams have crows in them and the Morrígan turns into a crow in some stories."

"Yeah?" she nodded.

"What if that has to do with your abilities? I can't believe I hadn't thought of this connection until now." He cracked the book open. "To spare you the details and get straight to the point: I once came across a poem in Old Irish that recounts how an army of inhumanly strong men were made which I like to think is how the first of my kind were made according to the Irish mythology: It was with magic, really strong magic, and the blood of a God named Bres whose mother is one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, who were worship by people in Ireland a long time ago, while his father is one of the Fomorians, who are basically the rivals of the Tuatha Dé Danann and are total assholes." He was flipping through the pages as he spoke. "This is the Tuatha Dé Danann's family tree," Jesse tapped his finger on the page. Beca leaned in to get a better look and saw The Morrígan at the very bottom of the tree.

"The Morrígan is a Goddess and isn't just a fairy tale?" Beca looked from the page.

"You never really know what's _true_ and what _isn't_ ," he reminded her of what he had said the night before. "These stories are ancient, Bec. And there are so many versions of The Morrígan so we don't know what's credible and what isn't and if she existed at all."

"How do we know she's real and has something to do with me?" She watched him close the book.

"She's a Goddess… And I think I know how to check if you have the blood of an ancient God in your veins."

"What do I have to do?" she asked.

"I need some of your blood to make a serum out of." He unzipped the back bag he was holding.

"You're gonna draw it right now?" she asked in surprise.

"Why, would it be a problem?" he frowned.

"No," she shook her head.

He could sense her nervousness. "Hey, it's fine if you don't like needles. I know how to do it and not hurt you," he assured her.

"I'm fine with needles," she told him and rolled her sleeve up. "It's just that you act fast," she shrugged.

"Gotta take a leap of faith and hope for the best. If this doesn't work at least we roll something out," he said in response.

"I wish I was as optimist as you," she sighed.

"Can we go up to my room?" she wondered. "I don't want to explain why you're drawing blood if one of the girls shows up," she went on to say.

"Sure," he nodded then followed her up the stairs. "I need to wash my hands first," he told her.

"Bathroom is over there." She gestured at the bathroom. He handed her the black bag where he put the supplies he needed to perform a blood draw then went to the bathroom.

* * *

"Amy is your roommate?" he asked after a quick glance around the room and seeing the Australia flag on one side of the room.

"Yep," she nodded and took a seat on her bed. He wore a pair of disposable gloves for sanitary reasons then sat down next to her.

He gently disinfected the area he was going to draw blood from then held her arm and felt nothing. "Well, look at that, latex is an insulator."

Beca nodded when he met her gaze then looked down at her arm. She winced at the feel of the needle and watched him draw a fair amount her blood then chuckled when he placed a Hello Kitty Band-Aid once he was done.

"Does the poem say anything specific that made you think it's about your kind?" she asked watching him store the blood in a tube.

"Not really. It just mentions their strengths and that they were once human." He shrugged. "The Irish Mythology is one of the least documented mythologies out there." He put the used supplies in a plastic bag and put it in his back bag.

"What are you going to do with the serum once you extract it from my blood?"

"Try it on a mortal and see if they temporarily gain inhuman strength," he informed her.

"You don't want Donald to know anything yet so I'm guessing you're gonna test it on Benji?"

"If he agrees," he nodded.

"I wanna be there when it happens." She rolled her sleeve down.

"I was going to ask you if you'd like to be around." He got on his feet. "Someone is home," he told her hearing the front door get unlocked.

"What's wrong?" he asked when Beca blew a breath.

"Nothing." She watched him wear his back bag while praying it wasn't Chloe that got home.


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you think it's gonna rain?" Benji asked as he and Beca stood in the backyard of his shared house with Jesse and Donald.

"Forecast says there's a storm coming," Beca informed him lifting her head to look at the sky where Benji was looking.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Okay, so you gonna have to get a little tipsy first," Jesse announced as he kicked the door behind him closed.

"This will get you tipsy," he added shaking a bottle of Rosé. (The effects of alcohol on the brain would speed the process and get Benji to react sooner to the serum.)

Beca arched an eyebrow at his choice. "I know you're not big on alcohol, this one is supposed to taste sweet." He handed Benji a glass before filling it with the alcoholic beverage.

"Want some?" he offered as he turned to Beca.

"Yeah, sure," she shrugged.

"Hold this." He handed her the bottle then ran into the house in his ridiculous speed that reminded her that he was different.

"Is he always showing off?" she asked the boy standing next to her as she eyed the label of the Rosé bottle.

"Nope. Uncle Jesse usually avoids wasting energy," Benji answered between sips.

"Château Paradis cuvée Coup de Coeur," she read. (Read: she butchered the French words). "Sounds fancy," she mumbled.

"It's Provençal rosé," Jesse informed stepping back into the backyard. "Provence is in southern France," he elaborated.

"Is there a liquor store in Barden that sells French brands?" Beca asked.

"Not that I'm aware of." He took the bottle from her and poured some of the pale pink liquor into the glass then handed it to her. "I found it in our bar."

"Mom probably left this over went she came to visit. She lives for Rosé," Benji said shedding some light clicking glasses with Beca. She took a hesitant sip and liked what she tasted it wasn't sour.

"I get the appeal," Beca said after swallowing. "So your whole family knows 'about you?" she asked nodding at Jesse.

"Not the whole family." He paused. "It's a little complicated," he added to which Beca nodded.

"My great grandfather believed his grandmother when she told him about Uncle Jesse and looked for him until he found him," Benji gave her a short version of the story that Jesse didn't know how to tell her because it was really complicated and personal.

"Sounds cool." Beca shook the drink her hand then took another sip.

It took Benji half of the bottle to get buzzed. Beca wanted to get trashed on Rosé but also wanted to witness what might happen fully sober.

She watched Jesse wear a pair of gloves for sanitary reasons then asked, "Why do you inject the serum why not the blood itself?"

"Well, in my case my blood can be venomous and actually kill instead of curing while what we are hoping is your case the other components would work as a veil."

Beca nodded to his explanation and watched him inject a pretty tipsy Benji with her serum as they sat around the wooden table in the backyard.

"Now we wait," Jesse said as he removed his gloves and gathered the used supplies in a plastic bag while carefully eyeing Benji.

Beca grabbed the bottle of rosé wine and poured herself another glass after five minutes of waiting. She had just taken a sip when Benji cleared his throat while pulling the collar of his shirt.

"What is it, Benji?" Jesse asked. "What are you feeling?" he continued to ask.

"I feel hot." Benji swallowed then pulled the sweater he was wearing over his head and unbuttoned some the first few buttons of his shirt then closed his eyes as he began to hear all sorts of different noises. "I can hear a leaky faucet," he added. "I can hear a lot of things," he said in discomfort then tried to cover his ears in an attempt to block the noises.

Jesse placed a hand against Benji's forehead. His eyes widened at the feel of it. It was certainly not normal. It felt tingly under his hand but not quite like the feeling he'd get from Beca.

"Benji, close your eyes and focus on your surroundings here. Shut everything else out. It's easier than you think. It's like closing your eyes. Flip that switch." He instructed. Benji closed his eyes and tried really hard to do what Jesse told him to do.

Seeing that he removed his hands from his ears, both Beca and Jesse guessed that it worked.

Jesse rested his elbow on the table. "Benji, arm wrestle with me," he told him.

Benji nodded and rested his elbow on the table as well before he took Jesse's hand in his.

"Why are you letting me win?" Benji asked as he began to sober up.

"I'm not letting you win," Jesse answered as he tried to pin Benji's arm down.

"Wait, I'm actually beating you?" Benji asked in disbelief.

Beca looked between them and took another sip of her drink watching Benji push himself and manage to pin Jesse's arm down.

"Now what?" Benji asked.

"Try running," Jesse suggested. "Just run fast as you would normally do," he added.

"Okay," Benji said and got up. He blew a breath then got up. And in a blink of an eye, he was slamming into the wooden fence and knocking it down.

"Benji, are you alright?" Jesse asked reaching just as fast.

"Yeah," Benji nodded and took Jesse's hand to get up. "Like the noises, Benji, try to flip the speed switch," Jesse said once Benji slammed into the wall when he attempted to walk back to where Beca was still sitting.

"Okay," Benji said as he rubbed his face.

Jesse pulled the fence up while eyeing Beca who was quietly sipping her glass of rosé clearly having a hard time processing what was happening.

Benji's reaction to her serum was the proof of her having a freaking God's blood running through her veins.

"How long will this last?" Benji asked hesitantly taking a step and sighing glad that he didn't slam into anything and was walking normally.

"I'd say a couple of hours," Jesse shrugged. "Have fun with it," he smiled at Benji.

"Beca," Benji called reaching the table.

"Yeah," she answered to her name.

"Would you a piggy back ride?" he offered shyly. "Uncle Jesse used to give them to me growing up, it's really fun."

They lived outside of town and close to the mountains the odds of anyone seeing them were slim.

"I would love that," she instantly said.

"Don't wander off too far," Jesse told them watching Beca get on Benji's back.

"Come with us," Beca invited.

"Yeah, let's see who's faster," Benji added, excited about his new found and temporary abilities.

"Okay," Jesse hesitantly accepted then knocked the fence down so Benji could cross it while he carried Beca on his back then pulled it back on and steadied it before they ran towards the mountains with no clear direction.

Beca held on tightly to Benji, feeling like she was on a motorcycle, not her friend's back. The thrill was unimaginable.

She looked at Jesse and watched the way the wind ruffled his styled hair and wondered how messy her hair had gotten. She then noticed how perfectly chiseled his jawline was. He had a smile on his face when he tilted his head to look at her feeling her gaze before he increased his speed.

"Are you catching up or what?" she said into Benji's ear.

"Hold tight," he told her and she did. She felt his speed increase and closed her eyes. It was cold and was going to rain but thanks to the adrenaline rush she was feeling she wasn't feeling the cold.

* * *

They stopped near a lake because running got boring after a while.

Benji lowered himself so that Beca could hop off.

The place was empty which wasn't a surprise given the fact that there was a storm coming.

"It's really pretty 'round here," Benji taking a look around then pulled his phone to take a picture of the lake.

"Yeah," Beca nodded in agreement. "It's really pretty," she said echoing his words as her eyes drifted towards Jesse who was standing close to the water.

He felt her gaze and tilted his head.

"Come stand close to the water, I'll take a picture of you two," Jesse offered looking behind Beca and at Benji.

"Why not three of us?" Beca asked.

"I prefer taking pictures," Jesse said in response.

"Do you like not appear in picture or something?"

"No," Jesse chuckled. "It's the part about me not aging. Pictures are proof. And we don't want that kind of risk of exposure," he explained.

"It's Benji's phone not mine," she clarified. "C'mon, this is a big day. We need to document it." She began walking towards Jesse while Benji followed in tow.

Beca stood between Jesse and Benji while Benji held his iPhone high enough the view behind them was visible. They smiled for the camera and waited until Benji snapped the picture.

"Donald is home," Jesse informed after checking the text message he got from Donald. "He's asking where we went."

"Are we telling him?" Benji asked, shoving his phone in his pocket and bending to pick a rock to throw in the lake.

"We now know that Beca is a descendant of a _"God"_." He paused. He used the term God loosely because in the olden days people viewed those with supernatural powers as Gods and worshiped them. "The SIAA could help us find more about your heritage," he said meeting Beca's gaze.

She nodded knowing he was in a way asking for her permission.

"We should head back," he said looking up at the sky.

* * *

They got home just in time before it began to heavily rain. Donald was made aware of the latest development and Benji showed him what he temporarily could.

Like Jesse had predicted, _it_ lasted for around two hours and when it did fade Benji felt ridiculously tired and went straight to bed.

So it was just Beca, Jesse, and Donald.

* * *

"Thanks," Beca smiled at Donald once he placed a plateful of mac and cheese in front of her for dinner.

Thanks to the weather, she was spending the night at their place. She would have liked to spend the night at her place but it wasn't the wisest decision to drive during a storm.

"You're welcome." Donald sat near her on the table in the dining room.

He seemed unfazed when they broke the news to him which Beca found astonishing.

"Have you tried to move things with your mind again?" he asked stirring the conversation as they ate.

"I don't know how" Beca answered.

"Well, have you tried to do the exact same things you did before you could move objects with your mind."

"It was one object: a knife," Beca clarified to which he nodded. "I was asleep… Jesse and I talked about it." She paused. Jesse was the one to debrief Donald. She could have chimed in while he did but she chose not to. She weirdly trusted Jesse a little. He didn't ask to tell her story but she didn't stop him when he launched into telling Donald.

"Yeah, but have you tried mixing then reading from the same book before going to sleep?" he asked.

"No," she answered.

"I think you should give it a try," he suggested. "Might work." He shrugged.

"Well, I gave the book back to Jesse. But I don't have my laptop nor equipment."

"Do you play any instruments?" he wondered after a beat of silence.

"The piano," she told him.

"Sample different parts of pieces and play them on the piano. That's close enough to mixing," he suggested.

Beca realized then that Donald really was trying to help. He was assigned to keep an eye on Jesse. But he was a friend of Jesse. Not her friend, yet he was offering help.

"Yeah, I could try that," she smiled at him.

* * *

"Got any piece you know from memory?" Jesse asked as he led Beca into the music room where he kept his instruments.

"Um, yeah," she nodded and made her way to the piano. "I know a few, actually." She stood for a moment admiring the piano before she sat down.

"Mom was a music teacher," she shared with him. "She taught me stuff ever since I was a kid."

Jesse nodded and watched her play random notes. "This is the first thing Mom taught me," she told him as she began hitting the notes Jesse instantly recognized the song.

" _So darlin', darlin'. Stand by me, oh, stand by me,"_ he sang once she reached the chorus of the song. _"Oh, stand, stand by me. Stand by me."_

He whistled along to the melody and less than a minute later she was playing a different melody that he didn't recognize but felt like he should have and that fit perfectly with what she was previously playing. He watched her bit her bottom lip as she played the music from memory and go back and forth between stand by me and the song he was trying to remember where he had heard before.

"Wait is this the misfits' Saturday Night?" he asked once she played the chorus from the song he was trying to recall.

" _There was was something I forgot to say. I was crying on a Saturday night. I was out cruising without you. They were playing our song. Crying on Saturday night,"_ she sang confirming his guess then she switched back to Stand by me grinning when he sang along.

She kept going back and forth, mashing the two songs together and taking turns at singing with Jesse. By the end, they were both belting out, _"Crying on a Saturday Night."_

"Wow, that was amazing."

"Thanks," she smiled accepting his compliment.

"How did you know that these two very different songs could work so well and sound so perfect together?"

"They have the same chord progression." She shrugged.

"It's amazing that you can do that," he said in awe of her talent. He knew she was into music and he heard her sing before. But seeing her showcase her talent with her impromptu live mash-up truly blew his mind.

"I'm gonna play you the song I was whistling the night we first met," he told her as he took a seat next to her.

"When I was seven," she said. He nodded.

"When you were a really tiny seven-year-old and were missing a couple of front teeth." She rolled her eyes at his words.

Jesse then proceeded to play her Heart and Soul. Just like with the guitar, his fingers moved smoothly between the keys. She could tell that he played the instrument for a long time because he wasn't even looking at his hands. He was looking at her because she felt his gaze on her while she watched his hands' effortless movements.

" _Oh, but your lips were thrilling,"_ he sang pausing for a few second before he continued, " _much too thrilling. Never before were mine so strangely,"_ he paused again. _"Willing. But now I see what one embrace can do. Look at me."_ She happened to be looking up when sang that last bit. _"It's got me loving you."_ He couldn't possibly be singing about what she did on her twenty-first birthday. _'Don't get any ideas, Mitchell!'_

 _"Madly. That little kiss you stole."_ He smiled meeting her gaze. _"Held all my heart and soul."_

She smiled back as she tried not to overthink it. He clearly said the song was what he was whistling when he met her and nothing more.

"Cute song," she said breaking the silence once he finished playing the melody.

"It really is," he agreed.

"Um, play it again," she told him, getting an idea for a mashup. "Just a little slower."

"Okay," he nodded and proceeded to play the same melody but slower like she asked and watched her place her hands on the keys and wait until he reached the chorus before she began to play a different tune.

Again, he was amazed by how perfect it mashed with what he was playing yet didn't recognize it.

" _Have I found you? Flightless bird, jealous, weeping. Or lost you? American mouth. Big pill looming."_

" _Heart and soul, I begged to be adored. Lost control, and tumbled overboard, gladly. That magic night we kissed. There in the moon mist,"_ he sang back feeling her arm brush over his when she reached for the keys and closing his eyes because he got an urge to touch her. He ignored it.

They continued to go back and forth with the singing and he found himself enjoying it a little too much.

"You're really good at this," he noted crossing his arms across his chest to avoid any mishaps once they were done.

"Thanks," she smiled curtly at him tucking the hair that fell on her face while she played the piano behind her ear before she stifled a yawn.

"When do you usually go to bed?" he asked.

"On a school night around ten," she shrugged.

He chuckled.

"I treasure sleep," she shrugged again.

"Well, I don't want to mess with your sleep schedule, therefore, I think you should read some of that book and go to bed," he said after checking the time to see that it was 9:40 pm.

"I think so too," she sighed in agreement.

He nodded and got up, leading her out of the room.

* * *

"Just call my name if a dream wakes you up, I'll hear you," he said reaching the room she was sleeping in for the night.

"You don't sleep?" she asked stopping the doorway.

"No, I sleep. But tonight I won't," he told her. "Sleep well," he smiled at her and turned on his heels.

* * *

Jesse decided to go through some of the poems from the early Irish literature and hoped Beca would experience something abnormal because he felt like she was going to lead him to the answers of the questions he had in regards of how his kind was first created.

He didn't believe in coincidences. It was hard to let the way he kept meeting her every seven years be considered a coincidence.

He was trying to keep his hopes low as well as his expectations but couldn't deny that he was hopeful.

"Huh," he frowned coming across a poem about _Bres_ the _"God"_ whose blood mixed with magic created an army of inhumanly strong men—an army of who he liked to think were his kind.

The poem mentioned that he grew so quickly that by the age of seven he was the size of a 14-year-old.

There it was again the number _seven_.

Jesse leaned against the couch as he tried to think of a connection.

" _Jesse?"_ He heard Beca call for him breathlessly and dropped what he was doing to go see her. (She had barely been asleep for a couple of hours.)

* * *

"Beca, is everything okay?" he asked stepping into the room. In the dim light, he saw her run a hand over her hair.

"I had the same dream from the other night," she told him.

"Same dream?" he echoed as he made his way to her.

"Exact same dream with the crow and the fucking creepy dome." She looked at him. "What is it?" she asked seeing that he frowned once he took a good look at her.

"Your eyes are dark," he said and sat down on the bed. "Hey, don't freak out," he added because he could hear how fast her heart was beating.

She nodded and took a deep breath.

"C'mon, let go down to the kitchen, get you a glass of water, and see if you could move a knife with your mind, yeah?" He got up when she nodded.

* * *

She was drinking water when Jesse set a butter knife on the counter. She thought of moving it to the left while also moving her hand to the left and the knife followed her hand movement. She tilted her head to look at Jesse who was eyeing the knife.

"Have you tried moving anything else?" he asked meeting her gaze.

"No, but I can try," she answered placing the glass down.

"Try something that isn't metal."

Beca looked around the kitchen then focused on a cereal box that was on top of the fridge.

"So, it isn't just metallic items," Jesse figured seeing that she managed to move the box.

"I tried to get the knife levitate but it wouldn't get high," Beca shared with him focusing on a spoon and lifting it.

He watched the spoon barely levitate then saw it tremble guessing that Beca was trying to get it to move higher.

"Hey, Beca, trying thinking in Old Irish," he suggested. "You know the language without realizing that you do and you were reading a book in Old Irish before bed," he added.

Beca nodded and thought about lifting the spoon high in Old Irish and was surprised when it did and so did everything else in the room.

"Beca?" Jesse called in confusion.

"I only thought about the fucking spoon," she answered as she looked around her.

"Calm down," he said noting the way the objects were trembling around them.

"I can't fucking calm down, Jesse!" she exclaimed.

She was panicking and had a pretty damn good excuse to freak out.

"Shit," he said seeing that she was about the hurt herself by pointing everything at herself then ran towards her pulling her out of the kitchen when she _did_ pull everything towards her.

"Jesse, what just happened?" she asked—She witnessed what happened but had no idea what it was.— he was unwrapping his arms from around her and pulling the knife that got into his shoulder when he ran towards her and pull her out while she spoke.

"Oh my God, did I do this to you? I'm so sorry!" she apologized.

"You didn't do it on purpose," he said moving his arm around as he began to feel the wound heal. "I'm guessing you were manipulating too much energy once you thought in Old Irish you couldn't control it," he said answering her previous question.

"You touched me," she said next.

"I'll be fine," he smiled at her.

They had been careful and avoided touching because they didn't know how it affected her and also because it made Jesse beyond thirsty.

"I felt it," he told her. "It's overwhelming but nothing like the night of your twenty-first birthday," he told her.

Beca avoided eye contact at the mentioned of her twenty-first birthday.

"So, now what?" she asked. She hated being depended on others, it physically pained her, but seeing that he clearly knew more than her she trusted him to make the decisions.

"Now," he sighed. "We work on getting you to control it since we figured out the trigger."

"You're not suggesting I read the damn book then nap and wait for the nightmare to wake me up?" she frowned.

"No," he said. "You had dreams about crows when you were a kid when you would go see your grandma, correct?"

"Yeah."

"You communicated in Old Irish with her when you'd go see her." He paused. She nodded. "Old Irish is your trigger. Thinking in Old Irish triggers the telekinesis, Beca." He watched her rub her forehead and said, "I know it's very hard to take in but you'll learn to accept what you can do, Bec."

"Yeah?" she exhaled.

"Do you want a hug?" he asked and grinned when she scowled at him. "I think you could use a hug," he said and pulled her into a hug. "Hugs are scientifically proven to help relax the body," he was saying as they hugged. He felt her lift her hand up and place it on his forearm while wrapping her other arm around his waist.

"Is it still overwhelming?" she mumbled into his chest.

"Yeah," he answered. "It overwhelmingly feels good."

"Feels good for me, too," she told him moving her hand until she reached his hand.

"I think you're channeling the energy from just now into me," he shared with her his theory once their hands were clasped together.

"I think so, too," she mumbled. "I can feel it leaving my body, it's so crazy."

"It's not crazy," he said squeezing her hand. "Hey, look at me," he said pulling his head back. "I wanna see your eyes turn blue again," he told her when she did look up.

He noticed the way she glanced at his lips before meeting his gaze and felt a sudden urge to lean in and kiss her but as tempting as that was he knew it had to ignore it. Instead, he focused on her eyes.

"Beautiful," he mumbled when she blinked resulting in regaining her natural eyes color. He watched her lick her bottom lip while glancing at his own lips and knew what was coming next, yet couldn't pull away.

"What happened here?" Donald questioned from his spot in the last case on the staircase and snapped them out of what they were doing and about to do.

Jesse broke the hug but didn't let go of Beca's hand because she was tightly holding his.

"Why is there a _bloody_ knife on the table?" he asked noticing the knife.

"Bec?" Jesse titled his head silently asking if she'd do the honor of filling Donald in.

She sucked in a deep breath then looked at the knife on the table and thought in Old Irish about moving the knife while moving her hand to the left. The three of them watched it move and Jesse felt the _same_ energy building up.

He rubbed his thumb against her knuckles, sensing her fear of repeating what she just did.

"I'm taking it away, remember?" he said to her.

"Yeah," Beca nodded and held her hand up then grinned when only the knife levitated just like she thought.

"You figured it out," Donald said while he eyed the knife.

"Sort of," Beca said with a shrug.

Donald arched an eyebrow expectantly.

"Take a look at the kitchen," Jesse told him.

"Yeah, you're cleaning up the mess you made," Donald told Beca after a quick glance at the kitchen. "Now put the knife down, please?"

Beca managed to do what he asked her to do without harming anyone then tilted her head to look at Jesse. He smiled meeting her gaze once he looked away from the knife that she set back where it was then watched her give Donald a summary of what had happened.

"Cool," he said nodding his head. "Well, I'm gonna go back to bed. Sorry for interrupting," he said stifling a yawn before he turned on his heels and climbing the stairs.

Feeling awkward, Beca looked everywhere but at Jesse who pulled his hand away from hers. "I'm gonna go back to bed," she mumbled before she began making her way to the stairs, feeling like an idiot and hoping Jesse didn't notice the blush that Donald's apology brought.

"Good night." She heard him say.

"You, too," she said in response.

* * *

 **AN:** Songs mentioned are: Stand by Me by Ben E. King, Saturday Night by The Misfits, Heart and Soul By Hoagy Carmichael feat. Dorothy Carless and Billy Mayerl, and Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron  & Wine.

Thank you for reading. Review your thoughts if you feel like it.


	6. Chapter 6

"The Bellas are about to perform," Benji told Jesse who had just arrived.

"Benji, why do you have a Giant Treblemakers thumbs up foam hand? We're here to cheer for the Bellas," Jesse said as he took a seat next to Benji who got there earlier because he didn't want to miss the whole thing.

"No, you're here for the Bellas. A _Bella_ to be precise," Donald quipped taking a seat next to Jesse. "Benji is rooting for the Trebles and I'm here 'cause I'm curious," he added as he got comfortable in his seat and looked around him.

"Oh, I get why people come to these things," Donald nodded to himself, watching the Bellas take the stage.

"Oh, yeah?" Jesse leaned against his seat while eyeing Beca.

"They're hot," Donald gestured at the stage.

"That is so shallow of you, Donald," Benji disapprovingly said.

"How else are you gonna explain the fact that a cappella is a thing that people obviously make money out of?"

"The groups competing are a bunch of talented people who love to create music with their mouths and that is impressive," Benji argued.

"Could you save this argument for later?" Jesse requested looking between them.

"I'm just saying: _instruments exist,_ " Donald mumbled.

Jesse rolled his eyes at Donald's words then focused on the girls on stage… well, a girl… the girl with an ear spike who was blowing a pitch pipe.

* * *

The Bellas gave it their best. The arrangement was a winner in Jesse's opinion and if he were a judge he'd crown them champions. The choreography was cute and sexy— they got away with some moves that they shouldn't be doing in a collegiate competition that drove the crowds wild.

"Still find it weird that a cappella is a thing?" Benji shouted over the cheers directing his words to Donald.

"Nope," Donald shook his head as he clapped for the girls who got a well-deserved standing ovation.

Jesse mouthed, 'You _'re great_ ,' when he finally met Beca's gaze who looked surprised to see him there.

She invited him but didn't think he'd show up. It was a polite invitation that she didn't really mean. Basically, Benji was fanboying over a cappella and how psyched he was for the semi-finals as they sat on the quad each working on their respective assignments and Jesse dropped by to pick up the books he had Benji get from him the library and heard their exchange so she invited him.

' _Thanks,'_ she mouthed back, accepting the hug from Chloe.

The Bellas came in first place and advanced to the finals and so did the Trebles who came in second.

* * *

"Beca, wait," Benji called.

Beca tilted her head and saw Benji wave the foam hand at her, Jesse wave a hand and Donald nod at her. She wanted to go and talk to them once they were done performing it but didn't feel right to leave the girls as they waited for the jury to announce the results.

"I'll meet you on the bus," she said to the Bellas and stopped walking. "I didn't expect you two to show up," Beca said gesturing at Jesse and Donald.

"We couldn't miss out on organized nerd singing," Jesse shrugged as he and the guys made their way to where Beca stood.

"Congratulations, you guys were really good," Donald congratulated, genuinely impressed with A cappella.

"You totally kicked ass," Benji was next to say.

"Thanks," she thanked them and resumed walking with them. "There's no real competition apart from the trebles, though," she shrugged.

"Someone is cocky," Jesse mused nudging her.

"No, really, it's always guaranteed we and the trebles qualify to the finals. It's like you're complimenting a cop for their excellent aim."

"Okay, someone also doesn't know how to take a compliment," Jesse said next nudging her again.

"I said thanks, didn't I?" she questioned. He nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Beca, we're grabbing drinks at Gaston's," Chloe announced catching her friend's attention.

"Wait for me," she said in response.

"You guys are welcome to come," Stacie added throwing an arm over Chloe's shoulder and tilting her head as well.

"We'd love to," Donald quickly said.

* * *

"So, this place is called Gaston's?" Donald asked taking a look around the bar once they all sat down by a table.

"Doesn't say that in the entrance or anywhere actually," Jesse mumbled pointing at the sign that said 'Dom's Dungeon.'

"Why do you call it Gaston's then?" Benji wondered.

"The owner looks like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast," Fat Amy answered him.

"Your A-cappella group is called the Barden _Bella_ s and you call him Gaston: there's a joke waiting to happen," Donald noted.

"Oh, it happened," Chloe snorted.

"I was really drunk, okay?" Beca clarified before Chloe continued.

"So, long story short, on her twenty-first birthday," Chloe pointed at Beca. "We made Becs a list of stuff to do while intoxicated in celebration."

Jesse nodded because he remembered Beca telling him something about a list when she came up to him asking if she could kiss him and was drunk.

"We added serenading the owner of this bar because she was the one that said he looked like Gaston to the list."

"What song did you sing?" Jesse asked.

"Take a wild guess," Beca told him.

"Gaston from Beauty and the Beast?" he arched an eyebrow. Beca sighed nodding her head.

"You really did that?" Donald laughed.

"I filmed it," Cynthia Rose announced as she pulled her phone from her pocket to show them the video.

"The dude now thinks I have a crush on him so thanks a lot, guys," Beca deadpanned.

"On the bright side our drinks were on the house that night thanks to _Belle_ ," Chloe nudged her. "That's what he called Beca when he told us our drinks were on the house," she added informing the guys.

"I think they figured that out, Chloe," Beca told her friend as she watched her stand up. "Beer pitcher and a round of shots?" she suggested and was met with agreement.

"Just a glass of water for me," Jesse requested.

"Okay," Chloe nodded and left to order the beverages.

"So what do you do, Jesse?" Fat Amy asked as they waited for their drinks.

"Um, a freelance composer," Jesse answered after giving it some thought.

"Artsy," she nodded then tilted her head to look at Donald. "What about you?"

"A writer," Donald answered with a lie. "Currently working on a novel," he added.

"What's it about?" Stacie asked next.

"Two mortals, a vampire, and a descendant of a God working together to save the world when vampires outnumber mortals."

"Sounds like Underworld meet every saving the world movie ever," Jesse noted.

"Well, I'm making it about the characters and their dynamics," Donald told him.

"Is there romance in it?" Stacie asked resting her elbow on the table and cheek against her palm.

"Well, of course, we wanna hit the mass appeal," he shrugged. "It's kind of an epic romance that fits with the ending."

"Again, Underworld," Jesse deadpanned. "You're ripping off Underworld."

"Am not," Donald disagreed. "In Underworld you know Kate Beckinsale is the badass hero from the get-go, but, in my tale, you don't know the identity of the actual protagonist until a few chapters in."

"Oh, like in Alien when you assume the captain is the protagonist at first while it's actually Ripley," Fat Amy figured.

"Exactly like that," Donald nodded. "Another thing about my story that makes it stand out— and this stays between us 'cause I'm sharing details from my work." He paused and Jesse resisted the urge to roll his eyes because Donald was making shit up as he went on.

"Of course," Amy nodded for him to keep going.

"The protagonist is also the antagonist," he informed.

"So your protagonist who you won't reveal until the reader goes through like a hundred pages also is the big asshole," Beca checked. He nodded. "And you plan to make it a big reveal, right?" He nodded again. "Okay, I'm gonna go ahead and guess it's the vampire," she guessed. "It's his kind conquering earth it only makes sense he'd turn against his team," she added with a shrug.

"You are incorrect," Donald told her with a smug smirk on his face.

"Is she now?" Jesse wondered meeting his friend's gaze.

"Yeah, it's not the vampire," Donald told him. "That would be an easy guess," he added tilting his head to look at Beca.

"Who is it then?" she asked.

"Do you really expect me to spoil the story I'm writing?" he asked.

"Don't worry, we won't go and try to sell the premise," she assured him.

"Okay, fine." He paused drumming his fingers on the table thinking of who he was going to make a protagonist/antagonist. "I'll tell you but before I do does anyone else want to guess?" he wondered.

"Just tell us already," Stacie groaned.

"It's the descendant of a God," he announced.

"What are this character's motives?" Beca asked. "Do they go ape-shit crazy and lose their common sense?" she wondered.

"Um, no," Donald answered.

"Can we go back to the romance?" Stacie asked.

"Sure," Donald nodded.

"The romance is between the vampire and the descendant of a God, isn't it?" Benji who had been quite until then.

"Yep," Donald affirmed and Jesse rolled his eyes because Donald made jokes about what almost happened and he had prevented from happening all the time. "One epic romance that has a sad ending," Donald told them.

"The vampire goes after protagonist/antagonist and one of them dies if not the two. I'm guessing the mortals save the world in the end," Beca said.

"Yeah, you figured it out." Donald clapped.

"Do they both die while _epic_ music plays in the back, too?" Jesse wondered.

"It's a book, Jesse," Donald reminded. "I'm sure that how it would go down in a movie adaptation though," he shrugged. "Hey, Jesse, you could score it," he added.

"And produce it," Benji said and got a glare from Jesse.

"Produce it?" Beca arched an eyebrow. "Are you loaded, Swanson?" she asked.

"Our family is," he sighed as he gestured at Benji.

"Right, our family," Benji nodded. "Our family owns a production company," he said. "Applebaum Productions… you might have heard of it," he added.

"They can Google it, Benji," Jesse smiled at him silently asking him to drop it.

"Okay, who's ready to get wasted?" Chloe sang placing the beer pitcher as well as the round of shots which she managed to balance in her hands.

"Not _you_ ," she said to Jesse placing the glass of water in front of him.

"Not me," he smiled at her.

* * *

As the night progressed most of the girls got relatively drunk while Benji, who didn't like alcohol that much, Donald who had a great alcohol tolerance, and Jesse who avoided alcohol generally, stayed sober.

"How's your hand-eye coordination?" Beca asked Jesse when they got up to play with darts.

"Better than yours," he said removing the darts from the board.

"Not if you don't cheat."

"You _have_ been drinking so technically speaking toddlers have better hand-eye coordination than you right now," he shrugged.

"I can hold my liquor," Beca told him and took the dart he held her way. She hummed closing her right eye and held the dart up before she tilted her head. "Right, how do I win this? What am I aiming for? The center?"

"It's called the _Bullseye_. You wanna learn the scoring system?" he asked in surprise.

"Never mind, we'll play by my rules," she told him. "Um, first one hits the center five times wins, sounds good?" she suggested.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Don't cheat," she warned.

"I won't," he assured her and watched her tilt her head then throw the dart missing the whole board.

* * *

"You totally cheated," Beca glared at Jesse who hit the center with every throw.

"I have excellent hand-eye coordination." He shrugged. "And I fought in some wars," he added in a voice only she could hear then pretended to be holding a rifle. "So I know my way around firearms," he informed her as she removed the darts from the broad.

"Pew," he said pretending to shoot at her then grinned when she rolled her eyes. "It's easy, Bec," he said straightening up and taking a dart from her. "Just grip it lightly and release the dart two-thirds into the throw," he said before he threw a dart which landed perfectly in the center of the board.

"Give it a try," he told her after he removed the dart from the board. She held a dart up and followed his instructions.

"There you go," he grinned when she hit the Bullseye.

"I still think you cheated, _veteran_ ," she accused as she grabbed her beer to take a sip. "Which wars did you fight in?" she then asked.

"Civil War. I decided then that a life killing people and making friends, then seeing those friends die shortly after meeting them wasn't for me. I traveled to Europe seeking a change and looking for peace which didn't last so I was stuck fighting there too."

"I understand you mean World War One by peace not lasting in Europe?" Beca guessed.

"And Two," he sighed. "After that, I decided to travel back to the States," he told her.

"You should write a memoir and sell for a work of fiction," Beca suggested.

"I have thought about it. Too bad I'm not a writer," he said in response.

"You can have Donald write it."

Jesse snorted at her words. "You actually believed him?" She shrugged.

"Well, he's not a _writer_ either _._ He made that whole story from early on the spot. He couldn't exactly tell your friends his actual job."

"Makes sense," Beca said then brought her beer to her mouth.

"Pool table is empty, wanna play?" Jesse pointed at the pool table.

"Sure," she nodded.

* * *

"Where in Europe did you live?" Beca asked.

"I moved around a lot," he told her and bent to make a shot. Her eyes went to his ass as she discreetly checked him out then busied herself with the beer she was holding when she looked up and found Chloe looking at her with a smirk on her face.

"Ever been to Europe?" he asked tilting his head.

"No," Beca shook her head. "Hey, stop cheating," she said realizing he was striking one ball after the other.

"I swear on puppies that I'm not cheating," he promised. "C'mon I can't swear on puppies in vain, be reasonable," he added noting her scowl before he tilted his head to take another shot. "Who's cheating now?" he asked once the ball he aimed for moved slightly to the left after he made a shot.

"You can't prove anything," she shrugged.

* * *

"They're so adorable," Chloe said to Fat Amy, Lily and Cynthia Rose who were the only ones at the table.

"Who?" Cynthia Rose looked up from her phone.

"Beca and Jesse," Chloe answered as she brought her drink to her lips.

"Didn't Beca say he's just a friend?" Fat Amy asked after refilling her pint.

"Just a friend my ass," Chloe rolled her eyes. "She was checking him out just now."

"Friends check each other out it's not weird," Cynthia Rose told her with a shrug.

"True," Fat Amy agreed.

Chloe gestured with her hand at the pool table. "You can't tell me you don't see _it_."

"See what? The camouflage wallpaper? 'Cause it is an odd choice for a bar called Dom's Dungeon. Wait, is this a trick question because I'm _not_ supposed to see camouflage?"

"No, not the camouflage, Amy," Chloe rolled her eyes. "I meant Beca and Jesse's chemistry. She's standing too close to him. I know Beca. She gets weirded out with people in her personal space. And he's in her personal space."

"So?" Cynthia Rose asked glancing up again from her cell phone.

"She's totally into him!" Chloe exclaimed. "I'm pretty sure they're already hooking up and keeping it low-key for some reason," she sighed then brought her drink to her lips taking a sip. "I can sense this sort of things," she added after swallowing.

"Hey, Jessica and Ashely just went to play darts. Benji went to the restroom." Chloe paused. "Where did Stacie and Donald go?" she wondered looking between her friends who shrugged.

"They're in the disabled," Benji answered as he sat down then cleared his throat. "I heard them."

"Did you sense this, too, Chlo?" Amy snorted.

* * *

"Your friends are talking about us," Jesse informed as he watched Beca bend to make a shot.

"Let me guess," she said then bit her bottom lip aiming and scoring. "Chloe thinks we're cute?"

"Adorable is the word she used," he told her. "She also thinks that we're, and I quote, _'already hooking up and keeping it low-key for some reason'_."

Beca was moving around the table to hit another ball as he spoke. "She said you were checking me out," he added and grinned meeting her gaze.

"It's fine if you were. I understand. I have been complimented on my butt quite a few times." He gave her his back then did a small hip dance to show off his ass.

A waitress walking by checked him out and got caught by him as he turned around. Her reaction was to make the OK gesture and nod at his ass.

"Thank you," he grinned at her.

"You're an idiot," Beca said when he looked at her. He shrugged in response.

"Oh, you're cheating and not even trying to hide it," he said watching the ball fall smoothly into the hole. "Symmetrically it shouldn't have fallen into the hole," he said tracing the direction she aimed at with his index. "You're bending the laws of physics in your favor."

"Again, you _can't_ prove shit," Beca said with a shrug.

He smiled amused by her attitude and stepped away so she could walk past him and take aim.

"There's no real fun when you cheat," he pointed out watching her aim for the black ball. "In the wise words of Sophocles: _'I would prefer even to fail with honor than to win by cheating'._ "

"Fine, I won't cheat," she told him meeting his gaze.

"Ah-ha, so you _do_ admit to cheating!" he exclaimed.

"Shut up," Beca rolled her eyes then looked at the hole she was aiming for and the ball before she made a shot. She grinned watching the ball fall into the hole.

"Where's my prize?" Beca asked straightening up.

"I'll get you a refill," he said picking up her empty beer. " _Cheater_ ," he added in mock-disgust.

* * *

"Amy, the curtains, please," Beca groaned pulling her duvet, hiding from the sun rays that fell on her face. "What time is it?" she mumbled looking up enough to see her roommate once she drew the curtains.

"A little over nine," Fat Amy answered.

"Why in the fuck are you up this early?" Beca wondered.

"To eat, obviously," Amy said in a matter of fact tone.

"Why don't you suffer like the rest of us?" Beca resentfully said.

"You passed out on the tacos last night those would have soaked up the alcohol if you ate them," Amy said with a shrug.

"That would be because I actually passed out on the bus. I mean I blacked out. I'm assuming I passed out on the bus." She paused. "Please tell me I passed out on the bus and you carried me to bed."

"Define passed out?" Amy asked.

"Amy, tell me what happened," Beca shot up. "What did I do?"

"Well, Jesse was driving us back here 'cause none of us was fit to get behind the wheel."

"I remember that," Beca nodded. "I remember everything until you decided we get tacos, so, be awesome skip forward to that."

"Right," Amy nodded. "You did pass out." She paused. "Then woke up feeling sick. Jesse pulled over so you'd puke outside the bus and you should call him and ask what happened next 'cause he stayed with you outside the bus while we all stayed in and ate the tacos. 'Cause, you were passed out when he put you back in your seat."

"And you didn't think to ask why I was passed out?" Beca asked.

"Of course we did ask why you were unconscious," Amy assured. "He said you needed to rest and that your vitals were fine. He was the only sober person with us and Chloe truly believes he's your secret lover and wouldn't hurt you so we didn't see a reason to not believe him." She shrugged.

"He's not my lover," Beca insisted as she climbed out of bed then ran to the closest bathroom to throw what was left inside her stomach into the toilet bowl.

"You okay in there?" Amy asked as she peeked her head.

"Yeah, it's just the word lover makes me sick," she deadpanned as she flushed the toilet and got on her feet.

"Thanks," she thanked her friend accepting the glass of water from her as well as the bottle of painkillers she was holding.

"Ugh, I just remembered that I have to go see Dad," Beca grimaced swallowing the painkillers. "I wanna go die in bed. Can you blow him off if he tries to contact me?"

"No can do, Mitchell," Amy unapologetically said. "I need to maintain a good relationship with your father in case I take a class he's teaching and you know my _efficient_ blowing off technics."

"He's a comparative literature professor, last time I checked you're studying to become a zoologist."

"I can always take a class to understand different cultures through their literature work." Amy shrugged as the two walked back to their room.

"So you're not gonna cover for me?"

"No," Amy insisted, stretching the word. "Besides, I have a dream to finish," she told her as she climbed on her bed.

Beca placed the glass of water on her desk then grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom to shower.

* * *

"Beca Mitchell?"

"Yes?" Beca frowned as she pulled the front door behind her.

"Ulysses Allen," he introduced himself as he stepped out of his car. He reached inside his jacket then rolled his eyes not finding what he was looking for.

"Oh, for fuck sake," he mumbled and turned back to the car opening the door and climbing inside it.

Beca watched him for a few seconds as he looked inside the car then decided to get going when he started to curse.

"Hey, wait!" he exclaimed the moment he saw her walk away then climbed out of the car.

"I have somewhere to be," she told him glancing back at him.

"I'm with the SIAA. I can't find my badge to show it to you," he informed as he pulled his wallet from his pocket. "I forgot I put it here," he mumbled as he pulled the badge. He walked up to Beca and held up so she'd read it.

"What do you want, Ulysses?" she asked.

"I want you to call me Bumper," he said putting his badge in his wallet again. "I've been told you're familiar with the SIAA."

"Yeah, I heard of it." She paused. "You're sent to babysit me?" she went on to ask.

"That's one way of putting it," he nodded. "We have a lot to talk about… I'm thinking Starbucks and muffins."

"I have plans with my folks," she told him. "Should have e-mailed me in advance instead of just showing up out of nowhere."

"I don't have your e-mail," he replied. "And DM-ing you on Instagram wouldn't be professional."

"Showing up without out prior notice and not checking your badge beforehand is _very_ professional," she deadpanned then looked down at her phone when it began ringing. "Excuse me," she said before she brought her phone to her ear.

"Morning," she greeted.

" _Beca, honey, just checking in to see if you're still coming,_ " Dr. Mitchell said.

"Yeah, I'll be there shortly."

" _It's fine if you don't want to help with lunch. I know, Sheila can be a little much with her ideas. She just wants to hang out with you_."

"I don't mind, Dad."

" _Okay_ ," he sighed. " _I'll see you soon then_."

"Yeah, see ya," she said then hung up.

"Here's my card, call me." He extended a card towards.

"Or you could DM me on Instagram and we'll figure something out just text in full sentences and use proper grammar that would be professional enough," she suggested taking it from him.

"You're hilarious," he faked a smile which she returned.

* * *

"So, my babysitter seems like an ass," Beca announced as she joined Jesse on the rooftop of his shared house with Donald and Benji where Jesse sat watching the sun set down.

"Donald knows him: he's not that much of an ass." He tilted his head and watched her sit next to him. "He's lazy and sometimes a bully but I'm sure you'll keep him in his place," he smiled at her.

"How was lunch with the family?" he asked.

"Went well. I didn't burn the house down when Sheila left me alone in the kitchen."

He chuckled. "I'm glad to hear that… Did you answer all of his questions? They get annoying when you keep important things out."

"Yeah, yeah. I answered all of his questions. He said I'd probably have to go to DC 'cause that's where SIAA's headquarters are to run tests," she informed him.

"Did he say when?" he wondered.

"Since my college education is very important he said during summer break," she told him.

"Which means you got until then to figure most of your abilities," he nodded to himself.

"Most my _abilities_?" she arched an eyebrow. "I can do one thing that is moving things around," she shrugged.

"You don't remember what you did last night?" he asked in surprise.

"No, I kinda blacked out last night. Well, I remember most of it. It goes blank after the girls decide to get tacos which I assume is actually falling asleep."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I thought you would have brought it up if anything happened," she said with a shrug. "So, what happened?" she asked in anticipation.

"Well, you did fall asleep then woke up feeling sick. I pulled over and you got out the bus to throw up."

She nodded because that was what Amy had recounted too.

"I asked you how you were feeling when you were done puking…"

* * *

 _*flashback*_

Beca ran a hand over her hair. "I'll be fine," she sighed straightened up.

"Here," he handed her a tissue he pulled from the bus' wedge facial tissue.

"Thanks," she thanked him, using the tissue to clean her mouth then tripped as she turned around to climb back on the bus.

"Why don't you take a minute and wait for the dizziness to pass?" he suggested grabbing her arm to keep her from falling.

"Okay," she nodded and slowly straightened up.

"I'll go see if there's any water on board," he told her before he climbed inside the bus.

"Okay, thanks," she said and looked around her. They were on the side of a road, an empty deserted road. She frowned hearing a weird sound.

"This doesn't sound like a grasshopper," she said once Jesse came out of the bus holding a bottle of water.

He took a second to figure out what she was talking about then said, "it's a nocturnal bird," he informed as he handed her the bottle. She accepted it and took a sip then began to follow the sound.

He found himself following her while looking behind them to see how far they had gotten away from the side of the road and into the field. She handed him the bottle. He then watched her bend and pick up the bird.

"Do you know what species this is?" she told him while caressing the small animal.

He leaned in to look at it. "A nightjar," he answered.

"I'm naming it Stevie," she announced.

"I didn't know you're good with animals," he said after a beat while eyeing the animal that was in her hands.

"I like animals more than people to be honest," she told him. "It was nice meeting you, Stevie," Beca said as she let the bird fly.

On their way back to the bus, Beca tripped again and held onto Jesse to avoid falling.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she apologized realizing she held onto his bare forearm and instead of pulling her hand away she moved it around liking the feeling it brought.

"How does this feel?" she asked looking up to meet his gaze.

"It feels exactly like it did on your twenty-first birthday," he informed and swallowed.

"Alcohol must be affecting your… um…. It gotta be…" he trailed off as his mind got clouded.

"Huh?" She glanced down at his lips.

"I was saying that alcohol has to be…" he trailed off again when she looked up. Her eyes were darker than the sky above them.

"You want to kiss me, don't you?" she asked leaning up so their noses touched. "It's okay if you do. I want you to," she shrugged when took her hand and removed then stepped away.

He took a deep breath before he could look back at her.

"C'mon, you know you want to kiss me so go ahead and do it," she said in a low voice as she held his gaze then smiled when he slowly closed the distance between them and leaned in kissing her hesitantly. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her.

It wasn't that he didn't want to be kissing her because he did. He wanted her and knew that very well and he also was aware of how wrong it was to go near her mainly because of their age difference. Yet, he couldn't say no to her. The thought of rejecting her was keeping his mind busy: he wasn't completely focused on what they were doing which in all honesty felt heavenly. He helped her wrap her legs around his waist when she kept pulling him down.

She cupped his face while panting as she pulled away then breathlessly asked, "What are we doing?"

"Good question," he said in response as she leaned in again.

"We really shouldn't," he mumbled kissing her back.

"Well, no one is forcing you," she told him and deepened the kiss.

He replayed her words in his head as they continued to make out and when she pulled away to breathe again it clicked in his head.

"You're doing it," he said and pulled his head back as she leaned in again.

"Huh?" she frowned.

"You did something." He helped her down then adjusted his junk as he distanced himself. "You made me kiss you just like you did on your birthday."

"Way to say you're not interested," she deadpanned and turned on her heels.

"Hey, cmon, you know that's not what I mean," he said as he followed her and began to feel the familiar and very unpleasant thirst she'd leave him with after any physical contact. "You know I can't even think of you that way." She ignored him and continued to walk. "Asexual, remember?" He looked around them then said, "Beca, this isn't the way back."

She stopped walking and looked at him expectantly. "It's this way." He jerked his thumb behind him and blocked her way when she walked past him.

"I know in your current intoxicated state you think I'm being an asshole," he said as he rested his hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

"Let me through," she told him.

"Make me," he challenged and held her gaze waiting for her to bend his will. She looked around them then fixated on a huge rock.

"Nuh-uh, not like that," he gripped her shoulder lightly. "Hypnotize me. Make me do what you want. Do the same thing that made me kiss you just now," he confidently gazed into her eyes as he spoke.

Her response was to roll her eyes. "I don't fucking know what you're talking about!" she exclaimed and cued for their surroundings to levitate excluding the trees.

"Just tell me to let you through," he told her after quickly glancing around them.

She held his gaze and he held his breath in anticipation. "Jesse, let me through," she slowly spoke and he had to swallow because he felt himself loosen his hold of her shoulder against his will. She frowned never breaking their gaze holding as he stepped away so she could walk away.

"Will you kill yourself if I told you to?" she wondered.

"Probably. I'd rather if you didn't do that, though," he said as he watched the way their surroundings were trembling several feet away from the ground.

At the smell of blood, he tilted his head back at her. "You're bleeding," he said noting the blood that was coming out of her nose. She reached and wiped it with the back of her hand.

"You're controlling a lot of things at once," he added and frowned when he saw that it was only then that she noticed the things floating in the air around them. She closed her eyes and it wasn't long until they were back on the ground.

"I got you," he assured as took her arm and wrapped it around his waist when she held her head feeling dizzy.

 _*End flashback*_

* * *

"I fell asleep on the walk back to the bus," Beca finished for him.

"You actually passed out but I checked your vitals you were fine." He watched her lay on her back while eyeing the sky that was getting darker.

"Part of me hates blacking out while another is glad that I don't remember humiliating myself." She groaned. "I can't believe I got mad at you."

"No one likes to feel rejected and you _were_ drunk," he shrugged.

"How's the thirst?" she asked feeling guilty because it was her fault that he had to suffer.

"I'm managing," he sighed.

"I understand you asked if I could come so I'd practice bending your will and not just _hang out_?" she guessed.

"Yep," he affirmed. "I mean we are hanging out: it is movie night."

"I don't want to sit through a movie… I can make you drop the idea," she figured.

"Your mind control doesn't last long enough," he said while patting her thigh.

"I'll work on making it last longer," she shrugged resting her weight on her elbows.

"That's the spirit," he grinned at her. "Also, it's not just mind-control," he added.

"What am I missing?" she asked.

"Both times you were drunk we ended up making out."

"Yeah, I made you kiss me," she shrugged.

"Last night you did but the desire was there before you said the words. I'm pretty sure you projected your lust after me when we touched. I think alcohol makes you project your feelings involuntarily and I responded to what you did because I have better senses than human beings."

"You really think that?" she asked as casually as she could because she didn't want to address the fact that she was physically attracted to him.

"I could be overthinking it. Admittedly, I have been obsessively thinking about it."

"Guess we gotta run some experiments to prove your hypothesis," she figured, sitting up.

"What do you have in mind?" he wondered.

"I get shitfaced then do stuff that would make me laugh before touching you. And see if you instantly feel like laughing," she suggested.

"Sounds like a good plan," he said as he got on his feet.

* * *

 **AN:** So is the story Donald makes up _foreshadowing_ or just me getting your heads and messing with you once you see the note?

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter: What you think will happen next. If you liked bringing Bumper into the story. The typos I'm a 100% sure I've made.


	7. Chapter 7

Beca was staring out of a window from her seat in the small diner she frequently ate at while thinking of how different things had become since her twenty-first birthday. It was hard to accept the abnormality of things but she was getting used to the changes.

She was getting used to how she could move things just by thinking about moving them in a dead language and gesturing with her hand.

She was getting used to having an immortal friend who she had _a slight_ crush on—it was a harmless crush that wasn't going to evolve into anything beyond a _dumb physical crush_.

She was trying to understand the newest addition to the freaky things she could do by experimenting: She didn't know how in the fuck she was going to learn how to force people to do things without being _drunk_ — all she had to do was say the words, not exactly rocket science.—

And, she most certainly didn't understand the whole projecting her feelings situation because it was true: as crazy as that might sound, she actually projected her feelings when _drunk_ … but it only affected Jesse— the night Jesse shared with her his hypothesis she got drunk and played Twister with Benji. Jesse went out for a walk to distract himself from the thirst and came home to find Beca and Benji curled up on the floor laughing their asses off. He helped Beca up and instantly his mood improved and he felt her joy.

Jesse used an analogy to explain why it felt different when she'd touch him sober saying that the energy i.e. her feelings would transmit on a low frequency when there's no alcohol in her system—it was just a hypothesis but it made sense.

The waiter placing her order interrupted her train of thoughts. She thanked him and dived into her meal.

"Do any of these look familiar?" Bumper asked as he placed a folder on the table then sat down facing her.

"Jesus, man, do you really have to do that?" she asked in annoyance.

"Do what?" he frowned.

"Show up out of nowhere." She grabbed the folder.

"What are you talking about? I didn't show up out of nowhere. I came through that door over there," he said while jerking his thumb behind him.

"How did you even know I'm here?" she wondered while opening the folder and finding photos of different cliffs.

It wasn't the first time he'd show her this kind of photos and she was impressed that he still hadn't given up on his belief that her reoccurring dream took place in a real place and wasn't a figment of her imagination.

"Barden isn't that big of a town." He shrugged. She looked up and arched an eyebrow. "Okay, fine. I tracked your phone."

"Isn't that illegal?" she asked.

"Not in my line of work." He shrugged again and grabbed the menu. "Why are you eating alone? Eating alone in a diner is sad."

"Is that why you're blessing me with your company?" she deadpanned as she looked closely through the photos then froze when she recognized a certain cliff from a certain dream that she had had more times than she'd care to count.

She cleared her throat and reached for the glass of water on the table, taking a sip. "This one. It's the one from my dream." She tapped her finger on the picture before clenching her fist when her hand began shaking.

Beca didn't expect much from Bumper when he asked her to give him a detailed description of her reoccurring dream that he typed on his phone's memo and was legitimately surprised. She wasn't sure if she should be glad that it was real or freak out: she decided to push it to the back of mind and deal with it later... she had been doing that a lot and so far it was still efficient.

"I KNEW I WAS RIGHT!" he exclaimed and looked around them when he realized that the people in the diner were looking at them.

"The cliff is located in one of the lesser known Irish islands," he said next as he flipped the photo so she'd get to read the information he had on the place. "I kind of guessed that the place from your dream would be in Ireland, given what your old pal had figured out, so I figured that's where I should start," he added pretty pleased that it barely took him a couple of months to find the place she'd seen several times in her dreams.

"And you're right," she acknowledged looking up after she finished reading about the small island. "Does this mean I _have_ to go there?"

"Oh, honey, you do what you wanna do," he told her. "My job is to report back on the stuff you _do_ and make sure you don't break _the law_ that applies to weirdos like yourself."

"What's this then?" She held the photo up. "Where does helping a weirdo like myself look for answers fall in your duties?"

" _That_ is how I get a raise," he told her. "Or at least a bonus check."

"If I decide to go will you be tagging along?" she asked next as she grabbed a fry and brought it her mouth.

"Negative," he shook his head then gestured for the waiter to come.

"Thank God," she muttered.

* * *

"How are things coming with the new stuff?" Bumper mumbled as he took a bite from his burger.

"I'm starting to think that they only work when I'm drunk," she told him.

"Wanna hear what I think?" he asked after swallowing.

"Not really but go ahead." She shrugged.

"I think you're not trying hard enough with the whole thing." He gestured with his hand around as he spoke.

"You seem to neglect the fact that I don't really know what the whole thing is in the first place," she told him. "If you know, please, do shed some light. I'll make sure you get your raise by praising your efforts." She paused. "Do they accept heartfelt e-mails or should I wait until my trip to DC and tell your supervisors in person?"

"I'm just saying." He shrugged, taking another bite. "Apply yourself more," he mumbled.

"Thank you for the amazing advice," she sarcastically said.

* * *

"Visiting Ireland, huh?" Jesse said as he placed a box full of random objects down on the ground.

"The island is pretty far from the Irish coast and there's no road to it," she informed. "I don't even know how to get there." She watched him pull a pocket knife from the box. "What are you doing?"

She frequently went to his place to work on controlling her abilities because it was the only place where she didn't have to worry about anyone witnessing the stuff she could do and Jesse was always there to provide ideas and make practice _fun_.

He looked at a tree in the backyard they were at and threw the pocket knife at it. "I want you to try to do that but with your mind," he said as he walked to the tree.

He pulled the stuck pocket knife from the tree. "You think you can do it?"

"Well, I can toss stuff. It's not hard. Aiming with precision is hard. And it's not exactly throwing darts."

"You're just going to try," he said with a shrug as he played with the pocket knife in his hand and he walked to her then placed it on his palm and waited for her to take it.

"You know, you could rent a boat to get to the island," Jesse said, watching the knife float in the air following Beca's hand movement.

"And navigate it how exactly?" she slowly asked as she fixated on the pocket knife.

"Hire a sailor," he suggested while looking back and forth between Beca and the pocket knife she was trying to aim at the tree. A quick glance around made him realize that she was unintentionally affecting the other objects around them.

"Beca," he called slowly.

"Yes," she replied and bit her bottom lip as she made the pocket knife float horizontally.

"You're doing it, again," he told her.

She still had trouble focusing on a single object which frustrated her.

She exhaled loudly and tried to only focus on the freaking knife only and managed to do it.

"Told you I can't," Beca said after she tossed the pocket knife that although had hit the tree didn't exactly get stuck.

"Your aim is fine," he noted. "It's your throwing power that you have to work on," he told her and walked to the box he had put on the ground.

"We're playing catch," he told her as he pulled a baseball glove and a baseball.

"I used to lock myself in my room when dad would suggest we play catch," she told him as she moved the pocket knife from the ground with her thoughts and tossed it in the box.

"Well, I'm not you father." He wore the glove. "C'mon." He clapped after he tossed the baseball on the grass. " _Hit me with your best shot_ ," he sang and grinned when she scowled at him.

"So you think I should rent a boat and hire a sailor?" she said, resuming their conversation.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I can't afford a touristy trip to Ireland let alone one where I'd rent a freaking boat and hire a sailor," she told him as she focused on the baseball and got it to float in the air. "And, I really don't wanna go to dad for the money."

"I can lend you the money and you can give it back when you're a big time record producer," he offered.

"Right, you own a production company," she nodded to herself. "I googled it. It made quite a lot of blockbusters." She tossed the baseball his way.

"I don't technically own it," he told her as he caught the baseball. "Benji's grandfather does. But I was the founder and I did make all the big decisions until Greg prove to me that he could run it." He tossed the baseball on the grass again.

"So you just stepped back and let him take over?" she said, guessing that Greg was Benji's grandfather.

"Greg taking over was always the plan." He shrugged. "I can't exactly run it without people growing suspicious." He caught the ball again once she tossed it. "Would ten grand cover the expenses of your trip?" he wondered. "Tell you what, I'll lend you a credit card of mine to use while in Ireland and also book plane tickets with."

"I don't want your money."

"But you _do_ want to go to the place from your dream," he countered. She put more force into her toss that Jesse very easily caught.

"You know what?" he said and tossed the ball in the air before he caught it again. "I'll go. I think it's important we find out more about this place." He tossed it in the air again and wasn't surprised when it didn't fall back. "It's creepy and you're scared of the unknown," he figured, tearing his eyes away from the baseball ball that Beca was keeping from falling.

"It's not just the creepiness," she sighed. "I don't just pack and go on exploratory trips," she told him. "That's your thing, not mine." She moved her hand around and the baseball followed her hand movement, pulling it towards her. "Tell me what you find," she said, pleased that she caught the ball.

"Come with me," he suggested when he met Beca's gaze.

"I have school, I can't go now," she told him and tossed the ball in the air before she used her telekinesis to toss it for Jesse to catch.

"Once the academic year ends then," he shrugged. "You still got a month, right?"

"Less than that," she told him. "I got my finals going on."

"What are you doing here then? Why aren't you at the library revising?" he wondered.

"I don't want to," she answered. "This is more _fun_."

"You still have two semesters left once this one ends. You're almost done, you can't throw that away."

"Dude, I don't even intend to use the degree I'm studying for." She rolled her eyes.

"I know." He nodded and tossed the baseball on the grass.

"C'mon, tell me what you got, grandpa," she sighed after a good five minutes of silence as they continued to play catch.

"You have a good reason behind picking psychology as a major, you shouldn't half-ass it."

"I'm learning from the courses, I don't need to pass exams to validate my learning," she said and it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Don't do that," she told him.

"Don't do what? Don't roll my eyes?" he asked.

"Don't judge me."

"Not judging you." He shrugged. "I don't agree with you but I'm not judging you." He caught the baseball. "Well, tell me when you're free to go on this trip and we'll go."

"Hey, how do you handle traveling overseas?" she asked. "I mean, like, do you sneak on airplanes or do you own a fake passport?"

"SIAA takes care of it. They update the date of birth on my passport every few years," he informed. "The SIAA was founded to keep supernatural beings under control and also hidden from the public."

"So, they offer means so that supernatural beings blend in?" she guessed.

"Yeah, for the most part," he nodded. "I mean some get recruited and work for them. Others just roll with the rules they put out only for the favors."

"Like yourself," she finished for him and he nodded.

"What happens to those who don't _roll with the rules_?" she wondered.

"What happens to outlaws in general," he answered. "Nothing good."

* * *

"So, you know how to drive a car but don't have a car for some reason. You know how to sail a boat and didn't think to mention it until now. Is there any other mean of transport you know how to operate?" Beca asked watching Jesse walk towards her while he twirled the keys of the boat he had just rented for their trip around his finger.

"Does knowing how to ride a horse count?" he asked.

"Yeah." She leaned against their rental car.

"Got enough food for the trip?" he checked.

Beca went to get some dried fruits and biscuits along with water from the grocery store that was close to the boats rental agency.

"Ay, Captain," she said and held the bag in her hand up.

"I got us a yacht," he informed as he unlocked the car. "I was hoping for a submarine but they haven't got any," he sighed.

"Bummer," she deadpanned, opening the trunk to put the grocery in it. "I don't see any port around here. Where's the yacht… parked?" she asked as she closed it.

"The port is a few miles away," he informed. "Want to give driving on the left side of the road a try?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded and caught the car keys that he tossed towards her.

"So, what are you hoping we find on the island?" Jesse asked as he took the passenger seat and leaned to type the location of the port into the GPS.

"I don't want the trip to be pointless." She shrugged and started the car.

* * *

"Pretty surreal, huh?" Jesse said as he shut down the engine once they got to the island and he steered around it looking for the cliff and finding it to Beca who was staring at the cliff.

"How are we supposed to get up there?" Beca wondered while fixating on the rocks that the waves crashed against and would definitely be the death of whoever fell off the cliff.

"We could go east, dock the yacht, then hike our way to the cliff from there," he suggested.

"Wouldn't that take a lot of time?" she wondered. "The going east part." She guessed he was going to give her a piggyback ride and run to the cliff.

"It's safer than climbing our way up," he said as stuffed his hands in his pockets.

She knew he had a point: the cliff was clearly the highest point on the island and going around was safe.

"Or you could hop on my back and I'll do the climbing," he suggested. "Just avoid skin to skin contact and we'll be fine," he went on to add.

She nodded after giving it some thought. "Okay, let's do that."

* * *

"Don't look down," Jesse reminded, feeling Beca tighten her hold.

"I wasn't gonna," she told him and closed her eyes.

He could hear her heart beating ridiculously fast and it made complete sense that she'd be afraid: one slip and she could die.

He was steadily climbing and wasn't worried about falling but telling her wouldn't make her stop her from worrying.

"Could you wrap yourself more tightly?" Jesse wondered once he gripped the edge of the land above them. "I'm gonna make a jump. You need to hold tight." He tilted his head.

"Is this good?" she asked while trying not go get any funny ideas from the friction that wrapping her legs so tightly around him caused—she was basically rubbing herself against him.

"Yep." He gripped the edge and rested his weight on one foot. She held her breath and shut her eyes tight feeling the air once he jumped.

"Becs," he called and she opened her eyes.

"That was _swift_ ," she said and loosed her hold before she hopped off his back.

"Thanks," he thanked her. "So is this familiar?" he asked as he looked around them.

"Mhmm." She ran a hand through her hair.

"Hey, do you believe in fate?" he asked as they walked in an attempt to ease her mind a little.

"Fate?" she frowned.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I don't like the thought of not having a choice," she said in response. "I like to think that we make our own bed and lie in it."

"Yeah, but what if the choices you make are part of a greater scheme?"

"Greater scheme made by who? God?" she scoffed.

"God, Buddha, Mother Nature, a dedicated goose, whatever makes sense to you."

"If everything is already planned out and we're all just puppets in a grand scheme and don't have a choice in what happens then what's the point of living?" she wondered.

"Maybe death is the answer to your question," he said in response, glancing at her. "You do your part in life then meet your fate advancing to the next step."

"You mean like Heaven and Hell by the next step?"

"That's one metaphysical model of the afterlife." He shrugged.

"Well, it would legit suck if nothingness is what awaits after death and this _is_ it," she noted. "Hey, do you believe in fate?" she asked.

"I'm a little on the fence." He shrugged.

He was actively on the look for anything that might cause a threat and so far he couldn't hear nor see anything suspicious.

"Is this part of your dream?" he asked once they reached an edge.

"Nope," she answered. "In my dream this whole place is landscape and at the end, there's a dome-like place," she told him while eyeing the land under them. They were at the highest point on the island. "I should have brought hiking boots," she mumbled eyeing the ground underneath them.

"Hop on," Jesse said bending so she could get on his back.

She climbed on his back then tightened her hold as he took a few steps back.

"Ready?" he checked.

"Yep," she replied.

This time when he jumped she willed herself not to close her eyes.

"Should I be relieved or freaked out that it isn't exactly like my dream?" Beca asked as she slipped from his back. "What?" she frowned noting the hard look on his face.

"Weird," he mumbled. "There's a waterfall not far from here."

"And what's weird about that?" she asked.

"I didn't hear it when we were up there," he nodded at the place they were at. "C'mon, let's check it out." He began walking and she trailed behind him at first before falling into steps with him.

"Well, this is beautiful," Jesse said once they reached the waterfall.

"Yeah, it is," Beca nodded in agreement. "Where are you going?" she asked when he continued walking then followed him.

"I wanna see if there's anything behind the waterfall, it's not uncommon," he told her. "Yep, there's a cave," he told her and took off the leather jacket he was wearing and used it to shield them from the water as they walked through it and inside the cave.

"Okay, this is a whole new level of creepy," Beca mumbled as she turned the flashlight on in her phone because unlike Jesse she couldn't see in the dimness. She held her phone up and eyed the place.

Cave painting caught her attention so she got closer to the wall they were painted on.

"You think these are crows?" Jesse asked once he was by her side.

She nodded as she fixated on the painting of what looked like a flock of birds. Jesse pulled his phone from his pocket and took pictures of the cave painting.

Beca reached and ran her fingertips on the wall tracing the birds then pulled her hand as if she were burnt.

"What's wrong?" Jesse asked watching the way Beca took a few steps back and was looking at her hand.

"You know how I feel like I'm passing something to you when we touch?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I was on the receiving end this time." She looked up from her hand.

He placed a hand on the wall and felt nothing.

"This is so fucking crazy," she muttered.

"This is not crazy," he told her. "We're on an island you see in a reoccurring dream: we were expecting to find something here, weren't we?"

She nodded and placed a hand on the wall hesitantly, closing her eyes as she did.

Jesse watched her carefully and waited for any indication that there was any danger.

Hearing the way her heart slowed down and was beating at a normal rate, he figured that what she was experiencing from the contact with the wall wasn't hurting her.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

"Hear what?" he asked back.

"The whispering," she answered and opened her eyes. "Or is it in my head?"

"I'm not hearing any whispering but I doubt it's the going bananas kind of _in your head_ ," he told her and smiled when she chuckled in spite of herself. "What are you hearing?"

"It's like overhearing a distant conversation between a lot of people," she tried to explain.

"Are they speaking in Old Irish?" he wondered.

"Yep," she nodded and moved her hand around.

"Try to focus on what they're saying, Becs."

She nodded and closed her eyes again as she felt the energy coming from the wall creep into her body.

"Hey, talk to me. What are they saying?" Jesse asked hearing her heartbeat rise before she removed her hand from the wall and anxiously clenched her fist.

"Um, they don't want you here," she told him. "They're being dramatic about it." She grimaced because the voices she was hearing sounded like a broken record.

"They want me to leave?" he frowned.

"Yep. Said you're not welcome."

"Are they still talking?" he wondered.

She nodded. "I think I woke them up when I touched the wall."

"Why aren't you talking with them?"

"What am I supposed to say to them?" she asked.

"Well, for starters you could ask them the reason why I'm not welcome," he suggested.

She exhaled then rested her hand against the wall and after the initial overwhelming sensation, she relaxed and audibly asked in Old Irish the question he suggested.

A few moments later she was saying that Jesse was a friend and it was clear to Jesse that the words weren't directed at him.

He arched an eyebrow when she looked at him. "They're saying your kind is not to be trusted 'cause you will hurt me."

"I'd never hurt you. Can they hear me?" She shrugged. He looked around then said in his broken and less impressive Old Irish that he wouldn't hurt Beca or anyone.

"They don't believe you," she told him. "They keep saying that you will kill me."

"I won't!" he insisted. "Ask them about yourself. Ask them about the Morrígan," he told her.

She nodded and proceeded to ask if the Morrígan was real then rolled her eyes and said in the dead language she fluently spoke that Jesse couldn't hear them.

"They won't talk while I'm here?" he guessed. The look she gave him was enough of an answer. "Fine, I'll be outside," he and began to make his way out.

"Beca, what's going on?" Jesse asked when he could no longer move his feet, feeling like the ground was pulling him and keeping him from moving.

"They're being dramatic little shits," she told him then proceeded to tell those only she could hear to stop and leave him alone.

Hearing trembling from above, Jesse lifted his head and saw cracks begin to form on the walls and guessed what was going to happen.

"Fucks sake," Beca mumbled and ran up to Jesse.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I won't let them hurt you." Meeting her gaze he saw the way her eyes had darkened and watched her look up.

"Beca, I'll be out for a few hours then wake up fine," he told her. "You will be badly hurt once the walls get shattered and fall."

"I told them you're my friend. This is pointless." She grunted and stumbled backward as she kept the heavy rocks from falling then moved her hands to the left willing the rocks to follow her hand movement and land away from them.

"You just pissed them off, didn't you?" he asked, noting her facial expression.

"Well, they pissed me off first," she shrugged off her initial fear of what she heard the voices planned to do next.

"This isn't a competition you realize that right?" he checked. She rolled her eyes in response.

"They're voices in a freaking cave, what's the worse they can do?" she said and looked up at the ceiling.

"We're in _their_ cave," he said slowly as he watched the way the ceiling of the cave began to tremble.

"Beca, get out of here, right now," he said while still eyeing the ceiling.

"No," she curtly replied.

"You picked a bad time to show how stubborn you can be," he told her.

"I got this," she assured him in a tone that said otherwise. She swallowed and fixated on the ceiling.

She let out a nervous laugh when she managed to keep the ceiling of the cave floating in the air once it cracked and fell. She then willed them to fall slowly and away from where she and Jesse were standing.

Jesse watched Beca yell her question the voices in the cave asking if they were done in a very impressive Old Irish.

"I'll be outside," Jesse said once he could move his feet and figured that they _caved._

"Okay," Beca nodded wiping the blood she felt coming out of her nose and watched him run out of the cave before they changed their minds.

* * *

He tried to talk himself out of walking back into the cave because he really didn't want trouble. But she took too long and he was no longer hearing the one sided conversation that was taking place inside. He could hear her heart beating at a normal rate and that was reassuring but not enough to keep him outside.

When he stepped inside the cave he saw her sitting on a rock and looking at the hole in the ceiling that was now illuminating the cave.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I just needed a minute," she said and got on her feet. He smiled hearing her thank the voices that tried to kill him earlier and stepped back and waited outside.

"So, did they give you answers?" he asked as they walked.

"Sort of," she said with a shrug. "They had some answers."

"Well, did they tell you who they are?" he asked.

Beca nodded. "Really, really, really old ancestors," she told him. "I asked them about you. The poem you read is correct… sort of."

"Meaning?"

"There was a ritual but they didn't describe it as anything magical. They said that someone like them…and me did the ritual."

"Did they say if there's a way to undo it?" he hopefully asked.

"Nope," she apologetically said.

"Well, that was expected." He flashed her a smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Hey, they never got to try and undo it in the first place because they were hunted down by the asshole that forced one of them to create vampires, fearing they would figure out a way to make his army mortal again. Doesn't have to mean there isn't a way to undo it," she went on to say.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Tell me what they said about you," he requested.

"Well, the Morrígan's real. I'm related to her and the gang living in the walls of the cave," she informed.

"What about your abilities and your dream."

"I asked about the dream. Turns out the crow is actual the Morrígan reaching out and the dome is basically a place in my mind where all the crap I'm capable of doing is locked."

"So, the stuff you can do now is just the tip of the iceberg?"

"They wouldn't say," she sighed. "They just said I have to figure a way to let it all out."

"We'll figure it out," he confidently said. "It was really impressive what you did back there," he noted as they got further away from the cave.

"Playing catch paid off," she figured, glancing at him.

"Yeah, I don't think it's playing catch with me," he chuckled. "I think it's this place."

"Someone doesn't wanna take credit," she said, nudging him.

"I'll take the credit when the credit is due," he said in response. "C'mon, hop on. By the time we get back to dry land it'll be dark if we leave now," he told her.

"Shouldn't we finish exploring the island?" Beca wondered.

"I did that while you were in the cave… a couple of times. There's nothing apart from the waterfall."

"Did I take long?" she frowned because it didn't feel like she did.

"No, I'm just fast and the island is small." He shrugged then bent so she could get on his back. "I don't mind going another time around the island."

"No, that won't be necessary," Beca said as she climbed on his back. "Let's leave. I'm starving."

"Did you finish the food you bought?" he asked in surprise and then made a jump.

"I just got dried fruits and Oreos," she mumbled not liking his tone.

"Your fault you didn't get actual food."

"I'm not very experimental with food and I didn't feel like trying Irish snacks," she explained as he climbed the rocks.

"With that amazingly scary ear-spike you never take off, you'd think you're edgy enough to try Irish snacks."

"Yeah, I'm not edgy when it comes to what goes into my digestive system."

"So, you plan to live off dried fruits and familiar snacks while we're in Ireland?" He gripped the edge of the land and made a jump, feeling her tighten her hold.

"Of course not just dried fruits and Oreos," she deadpanned. "The beer is good here."

He chuckled at her words and ran to the cliff.

"Hey, I passed the semester," she informed once they reached the edge of the cliff. "Thought you'd like to know," she added when he tilted his head to look at her. "Half-assed it and still passed," she proudly said.

"I'm not encouraging the whole doing things half-assed but well done and congratulations," he smiled at her before he began going down the cliff.

"Thank you," she thanked him and made the mistake of looking down.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asked, feeling her tighten her hold.

"Uh-huh. Just hurry up, please." She swallowed.

"I was thinking we'd stay and _hang_ here for the rest of the day," he snarled, tilting his head. "Close your eyes," he told her, noting the scowl on her face.

She let out a breath then closed her eyes.

"Wow, what was that?" she exclaimed, feeling an impact similar to the impact of a fall, and looked down to see that they were a few feet away from the rocks and sea water.

"Descending the regular way was taking too long," he said and moved sideways, approaching their rental yacht. "And you said to make it quick."

"So you jumped?" she said in horror.

He nodded and jumped to get on the yacht. She slipped off his back and ran her fingers through her hair as she looked up the cliff then down at the rocks and felt her stomach turn.

"I just thought I'd speed things up," he explained, grimacing as he watched her begin to dry heave into the sea water. "Sorry," he apologized.

Just like it kept slipping her mind that he was a pretty old vampire: He kept forgetting that, despite the things she could do, she was still a 'human being' who feared death.

* * *

 **AN:** Welp, I hope you enjoyed reading this. It would be cool to hear your thoughts. Thank you for reading and until next time. Peace!


	8. Chapter 8

AN: [Insert generic excuse for taking three months to update this story.]

* * *

"What if I never figure the whole thing out?" Beca mumbled as she rested her cheek against the palm of her hand.

"What are you talking about? Of course, you will figure everything out."

"Didn't know you're psychic and could see into the future," she deadpanned.

"I thought Alcohol was your happy juice, not your self-doubt juice," Jesse said in response.

She rolled her eyes at him and finished what was left in her pint before she got up to get the pitcher refilled.

Jesse hummed along to the song on the jukebox and smiled overhearing Beca flirt with the bartender, glad she was at least having some fun.

* * *

"I think I got why your powers didn't manifest until recently," he was saying as she poured beer from the pitcher into her pint once she sat down.

"Shoot," she mumbled, bringing the drink to her lips.

Jesse jerked his thumb towards his chest. "The folks in the cave mentioned that one of them created my race. It makes sense that being near the doing of your ancestors would trigger something." He shrugged.

"You mean making out with you by being near?" she mumbled after swallowing the beer. He nodded. "Well, when I get drunk I tend to become touchy-feely so don't come near me," she told him after swallowing the beer.—Chloe usually described her as more forward and less grumpy when she's drunk.

"With everyone or just me?" he questioned. She scowled at him. "No, seriously 'cause it might mean something," he went on to say.

She looked at him with the same scowl on her face which confused him a little before she drummed her fingers on the pint in her hand. "I looked up asexuality," she told him.

"Yeah?" He didn't get why she was changing the subject: his question was genuine.

"Yep," she nodded. "I didn't know much apart from the fact that it means lack of sexual attraction so I figured I'd educate myself a little: understand what's it like for you."

"If you got any question you can always ask me," he said.

"Actually I do. You don't have to answer if you don't want." She paused. "Do you get turned on when you engage in intercourse? 'Cause I read that asexual people can have sex and orgasm and all despite not being attracted to their partner."

"I'm not like _people_." He gave her a small smile. "I just use the term 'cause it's the closest thing to how it is."

"You never ever get a boner?" she asked in surprise.

"I get morning wood." He shrugged. "But nothing erotic."

"Shame," Beca apologetically said.

"I'm missing out, huh?"

"Big time," she nodded as she turned thoughtful.

Jesse eyed her as she shook her drink before she brought it to her lips. "What are you thinking?" he curiously asked.

"Nothing." She shrugged.

"No, there's something," he confidently said. "C'mon, you can tell me."

"I was thinking of the last time _I_ had sex," she awkwardly said after some hesitation. "I feel like it's been forever and it's been almost a year which is nothing compared to you… assuming you had some action before, you know?" She paused. "You became what you are now."

She knew how much he disliked the word vampire so she decided to avoid saying it.

"And I figured I should stop feeling bad about my sexless sex life 'cause there's worse. Then I thought you don't even want _it_ and I shouldn't be comparing my situation to yours." She gulped down her drink to avoid looking at him.

"You shouldn't feel bad," he said as she put the empty pint on the table. "I'm sure you have your reasons for putting sex off."

"Yeah," she humorlessly chuckled. "That would be my charming personality," she deadpanned.

"You are _charming._ I think it's that ear spike that scares people away." He nodded at her ear spike and grinned, meeting her gaze, noting the way she was trying to keep herself from smiling.

"So, you think I should take it off to be less scary?" she wondered.

"No." He shook his head. "I don't think you should change one bit because you're very likable as you are. And if people don't approach you because of how you look then they aren't worth your time." He shrugged. "I wouldn't put it in my earlobe, though, it looks painful to wear." He grimaced, touching his ear.

"It's just an earring, Jesse." She thought what he said was sweet and actually boosted her self-esteem. "And I won't take it off," she added before she brought the beer to her mouth once she refilled the pint.

He nodded, reading between the lines: she wasn't going to change to please others. "The bartender is looking at you," he informed.

She tilted her head and sipped her drink, thinking before she looked back at Jesse.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna head back to the motel," he said.

"Okay," she shrugged. "Let me just finish this," she was saying as she brought the pint to her mouth.

"I think you have other things to finish _,_ " he suggestively said, glancing at the bartender that was basically eye-fucking her.

He smiled noting the blush that crept on her cheeks when he looked back at her. "Have fun," he said, getting up.

"Thanks," she uncomfortably thanked him, scratching her head.

* * *

Beca decided after a string of not very good one night stands during her freshman year in college that one night stands weren't for her but the liquor she drank and the fact that she was very likely never going to see the bartender again along with her sexual frustration made her change her mind about sleeping with strangers and take the harmless flirtation with the bartender to ''we're-totally-gonna-fuck-tonight' flirtation.

She left to use the restroom before she left with the dude that she wasn't sure if she hadn't his name or had already forgotten his name once his shift ended and when she walked out of the restroom, she bumped into Jesse.

"We have to leave," he whispered into her ear before she could say anything. "It's not safe here. I found listening devices in our rooms."

Jesse planned to get a shower the moment he got to his room his plan changed when he noticed the listening device hidden in the nightstand lamp. He had a pretty good guess in regards of who had bugged his room but decided not to act on his guess until he checked Beca's room.

"Did you give the bartender from earlier any personal information? He could be with the people that bugged our rooms."

"No," she answered. "Are these people like the ones back home?" she asked, referring the agency that handled the supernatural in the US.

"They have different stands on things," he replied vaguely. "Look, I'll explain better once we get out of here, okay?" he added noting her dissatisfaction with the answer he gave her. He took the liberty of packing for her then loaded their luggage in the rental that was parked outside of the bar.

"Wait," she said when he turned on his heels. "I'll check if he's cool," Beca slurred. She had a lot of drinks, was pretty horny, and most importantly could make people do shit. "Just trust me, okay?" She patted Jesse's chest noting the doubtful look on his face.

It wasn't a matter of trust. He was worried she'd make a scene because of her poor control of her powers. And even if the man turned out to be okay, they were going to leave.

He stood and watched her walk away because he knew better than to stand in her way., he had been burnt before. He eavesdropped on her conversation with the bartender then followed them out of the bar, keeping a safe distance and waiting for Beca to do her thing.

Jesse watched Beca wrap an arm around the bartender's neck and lean up to kiss once they were in a remote corner and looked away when she was pinned against a wall, telling himself that he didn't want to invade her privacy.

He frowned, spotting a suited man that he remembered seeing earlier in front of the motel and quickly tied him to the people that bugged their rooms.

Jesse blew a breath, knowing that they had to leave as soon as possible, and looked back to where Beca was standing in a dark corner making out with the stranger that served her alcohol for the evening.

"Were you sent after me?" Beca breathlessly asked as she pulled away, cupping the man's face to maintain eye contact.

"What?" he chuckled, leaning in. "No," he shook his head before he kissed her.

"Beca, get in the car," Jesse called as he pulled over in front of the two, opening the passenger seat for Beca to climb inside the car.

"No, he's good," she replied in slight annoyance.

"Beca, we don't have time," he spoke calmly then looked through the rearview mirror to check on the suited man and saw him speak into his sleeve so he allowed himself to eavesdrop and heard him say something in the lines of having eyes on the target and knew he had to act fast.

"What's your problem, mate?" the bartender questioned, wrapping an arm around Beca's waist protectively.

"Cmon, Becs," Jesse impatiently said. He was going to break some laws that applied to the supernaturals in Europe if she didn't listen to him and he really didn't want to break any laws that put them in greater danger.

"Fine," she grumbled, giving in. "It was nice meeting you," she said to the bartender and leaned up to kiss him goodbye then left him confused when she pulled away and climbed inside the car.

"Fuck," Jesse muttered, seeing a couple of SUVs block the street from each end. "Fasten your seatbelt and try not to throw up," he said as he put the car in reverse.

"Who are these people?" Beca asked looking back and forth.

"They call themselves the European Balance Division and all they care about is wiping out the unnatural," he informed before hitting the gas paddle.

"That's us?" she guessed, holding on to the door when the car shuffled as he drove on the sidewalk since the street was blocked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Why the fuck did we come here in the first place if it isn't safe?" she asked, tilting her head to look at the cars that were following them.

"Because the EBD doesn't take action unless the supernatural break their rules. And we haven't broken any," he explained, taking a turn, trying to lose the SUVs.

"Then why the fuck are we running away?" she questioned.

"They probably heard about you and want to know what sort of creature you are since no one has a record of your kind … before the SIAA gets to meet you." He tilted his head to look at her. "They consider us _freaks of nature_ so I'm sure you can guess how they'd treat you if they get a hold of you."

"Like an animal," she figured.

"Monster is more accurate," he mumbled. "Don't worry, Bec, I'll get you back home safe," he assured hearing her blow a breath.

"Is that a promise?" she nervously asked.

"Yes," he replied instantly.

* * *

"So, where to?" Beca asked, rubbing her temples as she suffered from her worst hangover yet.

They ditched the car after Jesse managed to lose the people that were sent after them and caught the first train to London.

"Morocco. It's safe to catch a plane from there." He was writing something on his notebook as he spoke then turned it to her she saw what looked like a map of Europe with arrows connecting cities; Dublin, Ireland- London, England- Paris, France- Madrid, Spain- Gibraltar, Spain- Casablanca, Morocco.

"We're gonna cross the narrow Strait of Gibraltar to Morocco then hop on a plane from Casablanca."

He handed her his iPad. "Here's the rules we're not to break while we're in Europe." She accepted it and was reading it right away.

"Sorry I haven't told you about all this sooner… You've been exposed to too much too soon and I thought you could do without knowing for a while longer," he apologetically said as he eyed her.

"I can handle it," she said several seconds later, not tearing her eyes away from the 48 pages long eBook.

He could tell from the way she sat up and clenched her jaw that she didn't appreciate what he did. He could also tell that she was becoming uncomfortable when he kept staring at her so he looked away.

* * *

They made to Paris safely a little over 20 hours later, prepared to run into more agents. And given the fact that any activity on their credit cards could very much give away their location, they were going to make a stop at a friend of Jesse's for enough cash for their trip.

"Beautiful." Beca heard Jesse say as she eyed the Eiffel tower—it was a little far but kind of hard to miss.

"Yeah," she agreed, taking in the view. The tower was like a Christmas tree with all the lights and was indeed beautiful.

She heard Jesse talk to some pedestrian in French and tilted her head to look at him, arching an eyebrow when she witnessed Jesse take off his hand watch and hand it to the man who gave him his camera after inserting what she figured was a memory card and handing him a charger.

"Merci beaucoup," Jesse was saying to the man as he shook his hand.

"What are you doing?" Beca asked, tearing her eyes from the stranger that was walking away while examining the watch to look at Jesse brought the camera to his eye.

"Say cheese," he said, ignoring her question. "Or not," he added when she didn't, then snapped a picture of her.

He smiled as he eyed the photo he just took of Beca attempting to keep herself from smiling. When he looked up, she had shifted her attention to the Eiffel tower so he took the chance to capture the moment that he found beautiful.

"You exchanged your watch for the camera," Beca noted, still eyeing the tower that up until now she only saw in pictures and movies and didn't think she'd ever get the chance to see in real life.

"Yeah, you can't go backpacking across Europe and not have a camera to capture the memories."

"We're actually running away from people who want to put me in a secluded place and run tests and shit before they probably kill me and we don't even have backpacks—" Her luggage was in a suitcase and his in a duffle bag."—Also, you could have waited until you had money to spend a camera," she told him, tilting her head to look at him. "I'm guessing your watch is worth more than whatever this camera costs judging from the look on that man's face."

He shrugged at her words, turning the camera towards her so she could see the second picture he took while she wasn't looking. "Worth it."

"Aren't we supposed to be going somewhere?" she asked, looking up from the camera after staring at it for a few seconds, remembering that she was still mildly mad at him for keeping her in the dark and that she wasn't exactly talking to him.

"Yep," he nodded.

* * *

Jesse kept leading her through different alleys, shortcuts, away from the busy streets and each alley was creepier and darker from the previous.

An hour of walking in the streets of Paris in the night later, they got to where Jesse's friend lived.

The building was old and had an odd feel to it that send shivers down her spine. Jesse seemed to sense her discomfort and shot her a reassuring smile as they walked up the stairs.

Beca braced herself as she heard the friend, that Jesse told her was a woman whom he met during the 1940s, unlock the door.

The old lady took one look at Jesse then smiled warmly at him, giving Beca the impression that she knew he was going to visit her despite the fact that Jesse made no attempt to contact her.

"J'ai lu dans les cartes que je vais rencontrer un vieil ami," she was saying as she received a bear hug from Jesse.

She slapped his arm once he broke the hug. "Ça fait plus que cinquante ans, j'ai cru que tu m'as oublié, connard," she affectionately said.

"Jamais," he responded with a huge grin on his face. "Valérie, this is Beca," he introduced Beca once the French woman looked at her, switching to English for Beca's sake.

"Bonsoir," Beca politely greeted, keeping her expression friendly when Valérie held her hand in her hands.

"You must be the troublemaker," she said in the same affectionate tone, patting her hand. "Please, come on in," she added, letting go of Beca's hand and stepping back.

"What do you mean by troublemaker?" Beca asked as they walked inside the apartment.

"The cards told me trouble is coming with an old friend," she answered. "Et toi, ma petite, _feel_ like trouble." Her playful and affectionate tone made it hard for Beca kept a neutral expression so she cracked a smile.

"That might be the Division you saw in the cards," Jesse chimed in. "They're after us… after Beca."

"Ces fils de putes," she grumbled then tilted her head to look at Beca. "What do you say you tell me all about those bastards over dinner?" she suggested.

"Sure," Beca agreed when she met Jesse's gaze and he shrugged.

* * *

Valérie insisted they spent the night at her place despite Jesse's cryptic ways of filling her in on the reasons that made the EBD go after them.

"Where's Jesse?" Beca asked as she walked out of the bathroom after having a quick shower that helped feel a little better.—she politely declined when Valérie told her to make herself at home and take a shower if she wanted but the older woman didn't take no for an answer so she obliged.—The apartment was quiet and it didn't take Beca long to realize it was just her and Valérie in it.

"He left to get the money," Valérie answered as she carefully placed a Vinyl disc on the vintage turntable that Beca guessed was antic and worth a lot of money.

"I thought you had the money," Beca said in confusion.

"No, I don't," Valérie was saying as an old tune began playing. "He'll be back in a couple of hours," she added.

Beca nodded slowly, wondering why Jesse led her to believe that Valérie had the money they needed for their trip.

"The place, Jesse went to, requires physical effort and you need rest more than he does," the older woman said as if she could read Beca's mind. "No, I can't read your mind, it's just obvious you'd wonder why he went alone," she went on to say when Beca arched an eyebrow.

"First time in Paris?" Valérie wondered as she walked past Beca and to the kitchen.

"First time in Europe," Beca replied, turning on her heels and standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "And probably last," she muttered to herself.

"Tea?" the French woman offered, holding Beca's gaze. "It'll help you relax."

Beca nodded and watched the older woman fill a couple of mugs.

"You can let your guard down. They can't find you here," Valérie winked as she handed Beca a mug of tea.

"Is that why Jesse brought me here?" Beca guessed.

Valérie nodded, making her way to the balcony. "I've made sure the building forever stays under their radars."

Beca followed her to the balcony then sat next to her on the bench. "What's the appropriate term I could use to describe… your kind?"

It was clear that Valérie possessed some sort of psychic power and wasn't a regular human being and Beca didn't want to offend her by calling her the wrong thing.

"Hag," Valérie joked before took a sip from her warm drink. "You can call me whatever you want, ma petite," she continued.

"Valerie," Beca said after a beat. "The American pronunciation of the name that is. I can't get myself to pronounce the French R correctly," she added, making Valérie chuckle at her deadpan tone.

"So, usually when I hold a gifted one's hand I can feel their gift," Valérie said breaking the silence they got in as they listened to the music coming from inside the apartment and eyed the street view of the city.

"You gave nothing away… I felt it. It's there but it's like your gift is hiding."

Beca never said nor did anything that hinted at what she could do and she doubted Jesse would tell their host anything judging by how vague he was when explaining why the European Balance Division was after her so she thought carefully about what she was going to say to Valérie.

"I can assure you that I'm doing nothing to hide it," Beca retorted. "It has a mind of its own."

"How so?" Valérie questioned.

"Basically it's locked up in my head and I'm supposed to let out it. But I have no idea how and the people who were supposed to give me insight told me to find a way on my own. And, I have no idea where to start."

Valérie hummed in response. "How about the first time you experienced something supernatural?"

The first time she experienced something supernatural would be on her twenty-first birthday. She wasn't sure of what she felt because of how drunk she was but from Jesse's side of the story, it was clear that she made shit happen.

She made him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel just by kissing him.

She then thought about what happened after every time they touched—his thirst, as well as their fear of whatever effect the feel of energy leaving her body did to her— and how they avoided physical contact.

' _What if the way we chose to deal with things is wrong?'_ she wondered.

The first time she experienced something supernatural was when they touched…maybe if maintained physical contact for longer than they ever had it would fully manifest? Maybe his thirst wasn't for Blood? Maybe his thirst was for the energy she felt leaving her body?

"There you have your start," Valérie said while patting Beca's shoulder once she noted how thoughtful Beca had gotten.

* * *

Jesse frowned seeing that the lights in the guest room, where Beca was sleeping, were on at the late hour he got back to the apartment. He knocked on the door gently before opening the already ajar door and peeking his head.

"Beca, hey, you're still up," Jesse whispered as he eyed Beca who was sitting on the bed while her laptop on her lap. Beca hummed in response, not tearing her eyes away from the screen. "I left my bag in here," he informed as he stepped into the room.

"Valérie went to bed?" he was saying as he walked over to where he left his duffle bag.

"Yep," Beca nodded and looked away from her laptop while placing her headphones around her neck. "What the hell happened to you?" she questioned noting his messy hair, dirty white shirt that was covered in blood. When she looked closely she noticed bullet holes in the bloodied shirt.

"I've hidden some gold in the Seine decades ago and went to get some of it to exchange for money," he informed as he placed a black garbage bag on the bed. "The people I went to tried to double-cross me and keep both money and gold." He sighed, placing his duffle bag on the bed.

"These people are assholes," Beca said, watching the difficult way he moved in as he shrugged off his jacket.

"They're not very ethical people." He grimaced, unzipping his bag. He knew going to mobsters wasn't a wise decision but went with it anyway because making a deal with them would grantee secrecy.

"Well, you okay now?" She knew it was a stupid question because she had seen how fast he could heal but felt the need to ask seeing that he was moving like a robot.

"Yeah, I'm good." He nodded and proceeded to unbutton his shirt, wincing a little.

"Shit, the bullets are still in your chest," she realized, seeing that he was still bleeding and spotting the couple of bullets that seemed a little close to his heart.

"Yeah. This one would have knocked me dead for a few hours if it were like five centimeters to the left." He chuckled and pointed at the one closest to his heart before he grabbed clean clothes and towel and turned on his heels.

She frowned, noticing the bullet that was on his lower back as well as the wound in his shoulder and decided five minutes later to go see if he needed help.

"You okay in there?" she asked in a really low voice as she stood in front of the closed door of the bathroom then unlocked the door and walked in hearing him groan.

"The one in my shoulder hit the bone, I can't take it out," he said behind gritted teeth.

Beca grimaced at the scene in the bathroom: he was gripping the sink with his free hand while digging his finger in the wound on his shoulder.

"How do I help?" she asked, swallowing hard.

"Get a knife from the kitchen," he told her.

"Okay," she said and paced out of the bathroom.

"Got it." He heard her say as he tried to remove the bullet in his lower back then suppressed a groan once he pulled it and placed it on the edge of the sink. She watched him sit down on the toilet bowl after he took the knife from her.

"Could you hold that hand mirror so I can see what I'm doing?" he nodded at the shelf where the mirror was being kept. She nodded and tiptoed to grab it.

She looked away when he brought the knife to the wound on his shoulder then said, "Wait." She looked back at him and found him eyeing her. "Shouldn't you like bite into a belt or something to avoid biting your tongue off?" she wondered. "I mean I assume it'll grow back so I guess it wouldn't be necessary." She shrugged when he kept staring at her.

"No, no, you're right," he snapped out of his haze as he looked deep into her eyes that weren't their usual color. He then proceeded to unbuckle his belt. "Thanks," he thanked her when she reached and awkwardly pulled the belt from around his waist to speed things up since he couldn't move well due to the bullet stuck in his shoulder.

She placed the belt between his teeth and then held the hand mirror in the angel that gave him the best view of his shoulder and looked away and heard him breathe heavily as he cut through his flesh.

Beca saw the agonizing pain he was in once she dared look at him and grimaced watching him bite the belt hard to suppress a groan once he managed to pull the bullet stuck in his shoulder.

"What kind of bullet is that?" she asked, eyeing the quite long bullet in his hand.

"Sniper rifle," he answered.

"Thanks, Becs," he smiled weakly at her as he pulled himself up.

"You're welcome." She stepped back and placed the mirror where she found it.

"You should get some sleep," he told her as he ran the shower after washing his hands.

"I can't fall asleep," she replied, scratching her head. "Also, I wanna talk to you about something," she added.

"Can it wait until I've showered?" he wondered.

"Sure," she shrugged and reached for the doorknob, unlocking the door and walking away after she got a glimpse of him taking off his pants.

* * *

"How much is it? I didn't double check… they didn't give me time to double check." Beca heard Jesse asked as he stepped into the bedroom, dressed in the clothes she saw him earlier pull from his duffle bag; a wife beater and a pair of boxer shorts.

"Two point five million euros," she replied. "And counting." She tore her eyes away from the money.

"Should be three million in total," he told her.

"How much gold did you hide in the river?" she asked.

"Like twenty pounds maybe?" He shrugged. "I only took a few chips worth of a hundred grams, though."

"And where did you find twenty pounds of gold?" she questioned, looking up.

"I stumbled upon a sunken ship while swimming in the Mediterranean and found a chest full of gold," he explained, grabbing a folded cover from the foot of the bed on which Beca was sitting.

"I couldn't take all of it back home so I hid so of it in different places across Europe and gave most of it to people who needed it at the time." He eyed her as she focused on counting the stacks of money in front of her while nodding to what he had said.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked.

"Right," she stretched out the word. "So I have a theory in regards to what happens whenever we touch," she began to say as he sat down on the bed. "What if avoiding physical contact isn't the right thing to do?" She clocked the frown that formed on his forehead and continued, "Think about it, you said it yourself the other night at the bar, you triggered something within me." She watched him scratched the stubble on his chin, thinking, and added, "And your thirst that blood doesn't seem to stop, what if it's not Blood you crave? What if it's the energy that makes you feel human?"

"These are good theories," he said after given it some thought. "We'll definitely try to prove them once we're home." He smiled at her.

"Cool," she replied and looked back at the notes she was counting.

"Since we left Ireland you slept all together for like two hours and we walked a lot to get here. How is it that you're not asleep?" he wondered as he stood up.

"I tried to sleep but a dream woke me up," she sighed. "I can't fall back asleep when I wake up from a dream." She shrugged.

"Was it another one with the crows?" he wondered.

She shook her head. "I dreamed I was building a sand castle with a kid, he's maybe five or six." She paused to place another stack of euros beside her. "You were there, too. And you seemed to be handling the sun better than you usually do."

"Well, this isn't like the usual stuff you dream of," he noted to which she nodded.

"Weird," he commented. "It can't be a regular dream 'cause your eyes are pitch black," he told her what she already knew.—she knew it wasn't a regular dream because, a, it was too vivid, b, her nose was bleeding when she woke up. A bleeding nose was a sign of overuse of power which was also something to think about apart from the dream itself: why and how was she pushing herself with the power in her sleep.

"Well, try to catch some sleep, we're leaving early," he was saying as he placed the white cover he took from the bed on the floor, planning to sleep on it.

He didn't need sleep as much as she did but he recently been shot which made him need to feed soon since he lost blood and sleep helped him save energy.

"What are you doing?" she asked, watching take a pillow from the bed.

He frowned at her question. "Do you need this pillow, too?"

"No," she quickly said. "Are you going to sleep on the floor?"

He shrugged. "I don't mind."

"Unless you sleep like a starfish, I don't mind sharing the bed with you," she told him. "We'll put pillows between us to avoid accidentally touching," she figured as she collected the money and shoved it back in the plastic bag.

"I don't sleep like a starfish." She heard him say.

"Me neither," she replied, placing a couple of pillows in the middle of the bed for safety and watching Jesse grab the cover from the floor then climb on the bed.

* * *

"Beca?" Jesse called several minutes later as sleep began to wash over him.

"Yeah?" she answered, laying on her back wide awake.

"Did Valérie tell you what she felt when she held your hand?" he wondered.

"She did." Beca sighed, titled her head to look at him. "Told me she couldn't tell shit... she worded it differently, though."

"Well, that's interesting," he mumbled.

"Definitely something," she dryly said and heard a chuckle from Jesse.

She let out another sigh when she caught herself staring at his lips and looked at the ceiling instead.

"Try counting sheep it might help," Jesse suggested, hearing her shift.

She hated him a little because if weren't for him she wouldn't have let herself seriously consider bedding the bartender and most certainly wouldn't have gotten ridiculously horny and in need of some action, and not the solo kind of action.

And the fact that she kind of had a silly crush on him contributed to the hatred she had for him at the moment. The thought of getting shitfaced so hard then talking him into sleeping with her crossed her mind but she wasn't that desperate so she quickly dismissed it. Besides, she was annoyed with him over the whole not letting her know about the _good people_ of the EBD: she understood his motives and wasn't okay with them.

"Will do," she said as she shifted, giving him her back and closing her eyes.

* * *

AN: I hope this was mildly entertaining. Let me know what you thought in a review if you feel like it. Hopefully, next time wouldn't be in months from now. Byeeeee.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: I just checked if people are still reading this story despite the lack of updates odd enough there are. Thank you for your time and here's this. Also, happy holidays.

* * *

Beca was a little envious of Jesse at the moment because he was asleep and he didn't even need sleep to function while she was wide awake.

She hadn't slept in more than 24 hours and knew how bad it was for her health, both mentally and physically, but it was out of her hand. She had had enough "supernatural powers endured" dreams/ nightmares to know that it would take her around three to four hours until she could fall asleep.

Jesse slept like the dead, her gaze didn't wake him up. She had been watching him for a quite because he was a better sight to look at than the ceiling.

She envied him for sleep and held some resentment towards him because she held him responsible for her sexual frustration. Why did he encourage her to sleep with the bartender? Well, he didn't explicitly encourage her to do that, he told her to 'have fun.' But it didn't matter because the result was the same. She had an itch she needed to scratch and having a man she found attractive sleeping in such close proximity made things worse.

She let out a breath and got out of bed, feeling the need for fresh air.

The early morning breeze made her wrap her arms around herself as she leaned against the balcony watching the Parisian skyline. She wondered if she'd ever get the chance to visit the city again and explore it as her eyes fell on the Eiffel tower.

Beca frowned noticing a crow that set a wire connected to a nearby utility pole. "Morning, Crow," she mumbled, eyeing the animal that was directly looking at her, and chuckled when it cowed as if it were replying to her.

She inhaled deeply and she closed her eyes that at this point hurt from being opened for too long.

Hearing the crow cow, she opened her eyes to find it looking at her.

"What?" she asked as if it could understand her. "Can't sleep either?" She ran her fingers through her hair as she eyed the animal. It occurred to her as she eyed it the crow that she never tried mind control on an animal and decided to give it a shot.

"Come here," she said to the crow while patting the edge of the balcony. She rolled her eyes when it didn't move remembering that English wouldn't cut it.

"Okay," she slowly said when the crow flew towards her and set on the balcony at her request once she said it in Old Irish while maintaining eye contact.

"Let's try something else," she mumbled as she eyed her surroundings. Spotting a cigarette butt on the sidewalk she told the crow to go pick up and bring it up to her.

"Nice," she mumbled, looking up from the cigarette butt after the crow put it on her palm. "Really nice," she said, reaching to stroke its head feeling confident that it wouldn't hurt her. She then told it to stay there and went inside the apartment to look for some bread and feed it to it.

* * *

"Had any sleep?" Jesse asked, standing in the doorway of the balcony and watching Beca feed the crow from her hand.

"No." She shook her head. "Hey, check this out," she said as she picked a leaf from one of the gardening pots in the balcony and turned to the crow, speaking to it in Old Irish.

The crow took the leaf from her hand and flew towards Jesse, setting on his shoulder.

"Jesse, give Marvin your palm," Beca said, smiling at the frown that formed on Jesse's forehead.

"You named it Marvin?" Jesse mumbled as he looked at the bird that put the leaf in his palm. "It works on animals," he noted.

"On this guy at least." She shrugged. "Gotta try controlling some other species."

Jesse nodded slowly as he watched the crow fly at Beca's commend and set on her forearm.

"I'm thinking wolves?" she said as she fed the bird more bread before she let it fly away. "We leaving now?" she wondered.

"I need to go buy us travel back bags for our luggage first…" He sniffed the air. "And some pain au chocolat for breakfast." He could smell it and as he got on the balcony and spotted a nearby patisserie.

* * *

They took the ten am high-speed train leaving for Barcelona and Beca thought that she'd sleep on through it.

She couldn't.

She yawned while rubbing her stiff neck before looking away from the window growing bored of the countryside view.

"What's that you're reading?" she asked while taking off her headphones.

"A novel," he answered, looking up after he made a bookmark.

She frowned once her eyes fell on the cover and she read the title: You must remember this.

" _You must remember this. A kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply. As time goes by_ ," he sang in a low voice. "Chloe was reading this when I met you guys on the quad," he told her. "I thought I'd check out the book your father made his students read."

"I remember Chloe complain about it. Is it good?" she wondered.

"Yeah, really good." He nodded. "The romance between the thirty-year-old uncle and his fifteen-year-old niece is quite captivating," he said while looking down at the cover and rubbing his thumb against it. "The author's way of describing emotions and thoughts of characters makes the wrongfulness acceptable. I recommend it."

"As tempting as it is to read and see if I'd judge the fuck of these characters, I think I'm gonna pass."

"You're a psychology major, what do you think of their situation from a psychological perspective?" he asked.

"I'd actually have to read their thoughts before I could say anything but off the bat, I assume daddy issues on the girl's side and Ephebophilia on the uncle's," she yawned. "Ephebophilia is when adults find teenagers attractive," she elaborated. "Not considered a disorder."

"Hey, if you didn't hear as time goes by on Casablanca, where did you?" he wondered next, recalling that she had never seen the movie that made the song famous.

"Mom," she answered.

He nodded at her curt answer and watched her yawn.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked her as she removed her headphones from around her neck and put her iPod and headphones besides her.

"This morning," she replied with a shrug.

"Shouldn't you have grabbed lunch by now?" he wondered next.

"Now that you brought it up, yeah, I'll check what's on the menu." She stretched before she got up.

Jesse watched her walk away until she was out of sight then tilted his head to look out of the window, wondering when she'd crash and get some sleep since she's been awake for far too long and her eyes weren't in their natural color which was worrisome.

She took too long so he decided to go look for her and found her at the bar.

"Don't look at me like that," Beca said once she turned around and saw him rest his arm on the bar while he looked at her.

"At least you're eating," he mumbled, grabbing a fry from the plate in front of her and bringing it to his mouth.

"You look like me when I feed my body some lettuce," she said, watching him chew the small bite he took slowly, and took the fry from him and tossed it in her mouth.

"I'm having some wine 'cause it makes me sleepy," she told him, feeling his gaze. She knew how irresponsible to drink in public since she had terrible control over her telekinesis abilities once she lost her sobriety. Besides, it was barely noon. "I won't make a scene."

"Tell me more about your dream?" he requested not wanting to address her drinking because he wasn't there to police her.

"There isn't much to tell," she mumbled, shaking her drink.

"Does the kid look familiar?" he wondered, recalling the dream she told him had woken her up and involved building a sand castle with a child.

She gave it some thought. "No, I don't know him."

"What was I doing while you were building the sand castle?" he wanted to know. She brought her drink to her lips at his question. "Sunbathing," she informed. "It's a stupid dream, trust me I've had enough time to overanalyzed it, and there's nothing to it," she told him after taking a large gulp of wine as she noted the thoughtful look on his face.

"Beca, your eyes are still pitch black and you can't sleep, it wasn't some random dream. Did you experience anything when you woke up?"

"My nose was bleeding." She rested her palm on the bar then clenched it when she felt Jesse's gaze on her shaking hand.

"I can hear your heart, you know?" he said and heard her sigh. She was trying to hide it but he could tell she was on the edge. "Wanna talk?"

"I'm just tired," she told him. "Really tired." She rubbed her forehead. "I hate that I can't control anything. And, don't fucking tell me I'll figure it all out eventually." She glared at him before he could speak. "You don't know shit!" She clenched her jaw, looking away from while taking a couple of therapeutic breaths to calm herself down.

"Great," she muttered. "Five o'clock," she quietly added as she brought the glass to her lips, finishing the wine.

He discreetly tilted his head and saw a couple of men dressed in black suits.

"It's them, isn't it?" she asked when he looked back at her.

He curtly nodded.

"They're terrible at being discreet," she mumbled, placing the empty glass on the bar.

"They're not trying to hide," he told her. "But they won't make a scene in public, we'll lose them once we're in Barcelona."

"Jolly," she deadpanned and brought a couple of fries to her mouth.

* * *

Beca had a hard time believing they lost the agents, it was just too good to be true. Too easy. She kept her guard up and so did Jesse who was at the moment stopping a taxi.

"After you," he mumbled, pulling the door to let her get on board first.

Realizing that the AC wasn't on, she rolled the window down while Jesse told the driver where to take them.

Jesse stopped speaking mid-sentence and glanced out of the window for a split second before he grabbed Beca by the arm and pulled her down, making her bend. Feeling him let go a second later, she looked up and saw him pull what looked like a small arrow from his neck that she knew was aimed at her.

"Stay down," he said to her as the car began to move.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We'll find out," he mumbled while eyeing the arrow. "But I'm guessing poison. A classic 'if you want the antidote come to us' type of move." He tilted his head to look at the taxi driver hearing him talk and Beca watched him reply to the man in fluent Spanish.

"He's just asking if you're feeling sick so he'd pull over," he told her.

"Will it work on you?" she wondered.

"Yeah, it'll kill me," he replied casually. "But I'll be back," he said, doing an impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger, and smiled when she rolled her eyes at his neat impression.

"Hold on," he muttered as he pulled a small paper from the arrow.

"What is it?" she asked.

"There's a phone number. Called it!" he chuckled. "No pun intended." He shook his head in amusement. "I won't let them get to you," he firmly said, noting the worried look on her face. "I promised I'd get you home safely, didn't I?"

"Jesse, you're literately dying."

"Yes, but I'm not dead yet," he retorted.

"You have poison in your veins and are super thirsty right now, let's not travel south when you're like this. I'm not physically fit to carry you when you collapse."

"I can handle the thirst but you're right about the poison," he agreed then scratched his head. "You think you can kill me?"

"Dude, are you serious?" she said in surprise.

"Not really kill me but like stab me in the heart or snap my neck, I'll wake up in five hours tops."

"No," she replied instantly.

"Then we keep moving," he figured.

They waited until they got stuck in a traffic jam then paid the taxi and left, hopping on the first bus they found heading to Seville.

* * *

"Um, nos mucho fiesta," Beca said to the hotel receptionist as she supported Jesse's weight on her shoulder, struggling to keep him standing.

Her Spanish consisted of ten words and half of them were curse words. She knew what she said was wrong but the receptionist was kind enough to just nod at her and keep a small smile on her face.

She didn't even know why she was trying to speak Spanish when the receptionist spoke English very well.

"Gracias," Beca gratefully accepted the key to the room she booked for herself and the passed out Jesse. By the time they made it to Seville, Jesse could barely walk and form a coherent sentence and he currently could no longer stand up straight on his own. She knew he wasn't dead yet because she could feel his breath against her neck.

"Beca, kill me," Jesse muttered as Beca helped him sit on the bed.

She cupped his face and took a deep breath. "Fuck," she swore. She couldn't just snap his neck. Letting go, she watched him fall back on the bed then looked at the mini bar in the room.

She reasoned with herself: maybe some liquor courage would help her grow the balls to kill him instead of the painfully slow death he was enduring.

And before she could think of the downfalls she paced towards the mini bar—she needed a drink, anyway.

Beca was chugging whiskey directly from the bottle when Jesse began to shiver. She got up from her spot on the floor and walked over to the bed. She hesitantly placed a hand on his forehead to find it boiling. She tried to think of happy thoughts, hoping she had enough alcohol in her system she'd transmit her feelings and he'd feel them.

It must have worked because she saw his lips tug upwards but knew it wasn't enough and decided to run him a cold bath.

She tried not to enjoy undressing him given the fact that he was dying even if it's a temporary death.

"Where...we?" he asked when she tried to pull him.

"I ran you a cold bath, Jesse. It'll help with the fever," she told him as she wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

She dragged him to the bathroom while thinking of how she was going to get him into the tub. He suddenly pushed her away and fell to his knees, gagging, so she helped him find the toilet bowl and watched him puke blood. The sight made her stomach turn yet she couldn't look away.

She tried to pull Jesse up when he curled up on the bathroom floor and failed, he was too heavy, so she sat down and pulled him towards her. She rubbed his arms as she held him close to her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized for not having the balls to end his suffering.

"It's okay." She heard him faintly mumble as he weakly reached for her hand.

"Okay," she exhaled. "Happy thoughts." She closed her eyes and clasped their hands tight, trying to clear her mind and replace her anxiety with some happy memories.

She opened her eyes when she could no longer feel the energy crawl out of her and into him, she had no idea how much time had gone by but her back and butt hurt from sitting on the floor so it had to have been a while.

She pressed her palm on his heart then moved her hand around not feeling a pulse before she was certain he was indeed dead. She reminded herself that it wasn't permanent as she dragged him to bed.

She debated dressing him up then decided he could do it himself later as she picked up his clothes to fold. She pulled the tiny arrow from the pocket of Jesse's jeans along with the small paper and eyed them before she stuffed them in her back pocket and went to see what was left in the mini bar she could drink.

Beca hated feeling useless and wanted nothing more than to prove to herself that she wasn't useless. And, more importantly, she was not a damsel in distress. She hated to think that she would have been fucked if Jesse wasn't there to take the poisonous arrow instead of her.

Sitting Indian style on the floor she eyed the said arrow through her slightly blurry vision and grinned at the thought that crossed her mind.

* * *

A couple of hours later the thought morphed into an elaborate plan that she wouldn't go through if she was sober.

It was 10:15 am when she wore her sunglasses after she put the small note she had written for Jesse in case her plan went south near him then stroked his cheek before she placed a small peck on his forehead and hoped she'd see him again.

She typed the hotel's address into her cellphone because she was sure as hell she wasn't going to remember her way back and headed out.

She bought a map of the area and went to the first bar she found, surprised with the number of people that were at the bar so early.

With a drink in hand, she looked at the map and chatted with the bartender who was happy to recommend places she could visit when she asked for his opinion.

After deciding on a place, she left the bartender a decent tip for being so helpful and found a payphone and dialed the number the EBD left for them and told them at the location she picked.

* * *

Beca was petting a crow when she saw out of the corner of her eye a blond man sit down next to her.

"I must say we didn't expect you to call at all," he said, his accent revealing his nationality; English.

"And, I didn't expect you to show up so soon." She let the bird fly away and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What do you want?" she asked as she leaned against the bench.

"If you could kindly come with us—"

"Nope," she interrupted, removing her sunglasses and lifting them up. "Not going anywhere with you." She tilted her head to look at him and smiled a little at the smirk he had on his face. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you?" she asked.

"Naive," he told her, giving her the impression that he broke character or something since his robotic tone changed slightly.

"Dude, you have nothing on me, you don't know what sort of things I can do. Do you really think I'd call and tell you to meet me here without a plan to leave safely?"

"Rebeca Ilsa Mitchell, we've had eyes on you for far longer than you than you think," he was saying monotonically this time.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, we know more about you than you know about yourself. And, We have your best interest. I know your friend must've warned you about us," he said as he held her gaze. "It's true what he said: our purpose is to protect people from the unnatural. You don't belong to the unnatural."

"I can assure I'm not "natural"," she told him.

"You're neither, actually" he quipped and she maintained the poker face despite her confusion.

"You said you've been creeping on me which means you know where I live, why did you wait so long before coming after me?"

"We will answer all of your questions once you come with us," he said after a long pause to which she scoffed.

"Look, I only came to see you to tell you that if you don't leave me alone I will make sure everything your people work so hard to keep under the grid goes to waste, got it?"

"You're bluffing," he called her out.

"You've been keeping tabs on me which means you must know my family's history with schizoaffective." She maintained eye contact and smiled at him.

"You don't wanna mess with me," she said as she patted his hand and thought really hard of all her darkest fears, counting on him to feel them. She saw how the blank look he had on his face transformed into the look of a man who was seeing death which was the sign she needed to know that it worked and that he could feel her fears. "I wouldn't follow me if I were you," and with that, she got up and left not daring to look behind her.

Within seconds she could hear cawing, loud and close cawing before she saw the largest murder of crows she had ever laid eyes on fill the park and make it difficult anyone to move or even see properly except for her.

She wasn't sure the crow would actually tell his fellow crows she wanted them to form a murder and cover her because she hadn't tried it before.

She quickly disappeared from the park, hopping in the first taxi she found.

After telling the driver to take her to another part of the city, she tilted her head and was surprised to see how huge the murder was from a distance—she told the crow she wanted it to be big but hadn't expected to see a freaking cloud of crows fill the park she told the EBD to meet her at.

It was a dumb and impulsive plan but she wasn't ready to acknowledge it.

* * *

She went back to the hotel once she was certain she wasn't being followed and couldn't help but laugh when she couldn't open the door due to the shakiness of her hands.

"You're up," she said when Jesse opened the door for her.

"Where were you?" he questioned.

"For how long have you been up?" she asked back and stepped into the room.

"Beca, why did you leave me a note that said: _'Don't look for me if I'm not back'_?" he read from the paper she left for him.

"I met up with some dude from the EBD at the Parque del Alamillo. Wasn't sure I'll be back." She walked to the bathroom, washing her face once she ran the water.

He followed her into the bathroom. "Have you lost your goddamn mind?"

"Yes," she replied. "I think I have! And before you freak out on me, no, I didn't lead them back here."

Jesse stood in the bathroom doorway and frowned when she hurried to the toilet bowl to throw up then went and closed the faucet before he left the bathroom to get her water from the mini fridge.

Beca had her head against the bowl when he walked into the bathroom.

He flushed the toilet and eyed her as she looked up and saw her roll her eyes when he extended his hand to help her get up before she stood up on her own.

"C'mon, you'll feel better," he told her as he unbuttoned the shirt he had just worn.

"What are you doing?" she asked, failing to open the bottle due to how shaky her hands were.

"Take off your t-shirt," he told her as he removed his shirt. "We're hugging until you feel better," he explained.

Managing to open the bottle, she brought it to her lips and chugged down some water.

"I'll be fine," she said and walked past him. He followed her out of the bathroom. "What's our next stop?" She ran a hand through her hair.

"We're not going anywhere until you're yourself again," he told her.

"I feel fine," she said behind gritted teeth.

"That's a lie. Don't fight me over this and let me help."

"I don't need your help. Could you back the fuck off?" She tilted her head to look in the mirror that just got shattered and that she was certain was her doing.

Jesse held his hands up in defeat when she looked back at him.

"What is happening to me?" she muttered as she held her head and closed her eyes, taking a couple of therapeutic breaths.

"You haven't slept in two days, Bec, it's taking a toll on your health," he stated. "Perhaps a steamy bath might help?" He watched her nodded in agreement.

"I'll run you a hot one," he said as he turned on his heels.

* * *

"I took the liberty of ordering some food for you," Jesse was saying as she stepped out of the bathroom in the hotel's bathrobe. "I know you're not big on trying out new things but you won't regret trying Carrillada de Cerdo." He nodded at the tray he was holding in his hands.

"Thanks," she thanked him and took the tray from him before she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you mind if I borrowed your laptop?" he wondered.

He smiled at her when she shook her head while chewing and went to get her laptop from her back bag then climbed on the bed.

"What do you need it for?" she asked once she swallowed.

"We're watching a movie," he told her and patted the bed silently asking her to join him.

"I promise you won't hate it," he said before she could decline, his smile growing wider when she climbed on the bed, tray in hands.

"Nineteen-seventy-seven's Annie Hall," he began to say once he loaded the film. "Won four academy awards; best picture, best director, best screenplay, and best actress. Often listened among the funniest film comedies. And, is the inspiration behind loads of romantic comedies."

"You lost me at romantic comedies," she deadpanned as he hit play.

"Well, it's more of a comedy-drama about a nervous guy and love is one of the topics the movie deals with," he corrected himself.

"Are you gonna talk through the whole thing?" she wondered.

"Sorry," he apologized. "It's a bad habit I have." He sighed. "I'll try not to speak over the movie."

"I don't mind, I'm just asking." She shrugged.

"Well, in that case, prepare for a lot of fun trivia."

"Yay," she deadpanned.

As much as he wanted her to watch Annie Hall in its entirety, Jesse really hoped she'd fall asleep during it but wasn't surprised when she made it to the end.

"Thoughts?" he said as he tilted his head to look at her.

"It's good," she said with a shrug.

"Just good?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah." She laid on her back and closed her eyes. She was tired and really wanted to sleep but it just wasn't happening. "You think insomnia pills would work?" she wondered.

"I don't know about that but I do know that if we at least held hands you'll feel better sooner," he said—by holding his hand she would channel some of the energy that was keeping her up— he placed her laptop back in her bag after he hopped off of the bed.

"No," she declined. It wasn't just her pride it was also the fact that the only outcome for him was a bad case of thirst and she didn't want him to go through it.

"We'll hit two birds with one rock: you'll feel better and we get to test your theory," he was telling her as he sat back on the bed and extended his hand.

He watched her exhale loudly before she hesitantly took his hand in hers. Smiling, he leaned against the headboard and interlocked their fingers. "So how did you manage to lose the EBD?" He assumed they would have shown up by now if she didn't, in fact, lose them.

"I asked a crow to tell other crows to form a murder and cover for me. I talked to the agent until I heard the crows getting closer and left once they arrived," she told him the plan that being sober made her see how terrible and risky it was.

He nodded, keeping his thoughts on her terrible plan to himself. "Did he tell you anything?" he wanted to know.

Looking him in the eye, his curious chocolaty brown eyes, she recalled what the agent said to her and decided to keep it to herself justifying it by the fact _he_ also kept things from her.

"He asked me to come with him and told me they have my best interest," she shared, leaving out the part where he claimed she was different.

"Classic," he chuckled.

"I think I broke the guy," she said, looking down at their hands.

"What did you do?" he worried, the amusement was gone from his voice.

"Don't worry, I didn't break their precious rules and hurt him physically," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes. "I just touched him while thinking of some very dark things." She looked up to meet his gaze. "You should have seen his face. He was mortified."

"Imagine if you learn how to do _that_ through telekinesis," he mumbled thoughtfully, eyeing her. "You'd really do damage." He rubbed her knuckles while he began undoing his shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked, keeping her tone casual.

"Come close. The more skin to skin contact the more energy you transmit," he reasoned.

"Yeah, let's not do that."

"Why not?" he perplexed.

She cleared her throat and gave no reply and he would have persisted until he got an answer if it weren't for the tiny change in what was creeping into his skin and focused on it. It was frustrating how hard it was to put his finger on it but he was certain he felt it before, he was certain she had previously passed whatever it was he was feeling, he just had to remember when.

He blink when she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "You alright there?" she worried.

Jesse nodded in response then smirked as it clicked in his head. "Are you afraid we'd end up making out?" he bluntly asked. "Ever asked yourself why we do that?" he went on to ask.

"I can't tell if you're genuinely asking and are like super clueless or trying to make me feel bad. If it's the latter then rest assured that I do feel bad for forcing you to kiss when you clearly have no interest."

"Of course, I'm not trying to purposely make you feel bad." He sat up. "I'm serious. When we touch you get a sort of an instinct to kiss me, right?" he continued.

She hesitantly nodded.

"I was just thinking of what you said back at Valerie's about how we might have chosen the wrong way of dealing with whatever this is." He gestured at their hands, pausing to sort out his thoughts.

"Maybe your attraction is out of your hand," he told her. "And, maybe it's not blood I cave… maybe it's _you_ I crave," he added as he held her gaze.

"Oh-kay." She removed her hand from his and climbed out of bed. "Let's hold our horses, shall we?"

"Sure." He clenched his fists, feeling the dreaded thirst.

She ran a hand through her hair. "First off, you can't say stuff like that to me, it's not cool."

"Got it." He nodded, watching her pace around the room.

"They're confusing and… and you're confusing," she exclaimed, gesturing at him.

"Second," she sighed, coming to a stop in front of the minibar and looking away instantly because she wasn't going seek comfort in liquor not when Jesse was around. "That is just… that's just weird and not right."

"What's not right exactly?" he asked. "Which part?"

"Jesse," she called behind gritted teeth.

"Yes?"

"Stop. Playing. Dumb."

"I'm sorry," he apologized and climbed out of the bed. "It's hard to follow when, um..." He cleared his throat. She walked up to him and took his hand in hers.

"Let's say you're right, okay?" she said, tightening her hold of his hand while she looked at the minibar. "Then what?"

"What do you think we should do next?" he cautiously asked and felt her tighten her hold even more before she tilted her head to look at him.

"We are not gonna have sex," she said once she was looking him in the eye.

"It's weird and not right," he quoted her.

"Exactly," she agreed.

"Except if we don't we can't roll it out as a possibility," he reasoned and was met with a conflicted look. "I don't want to do it either. I also think it's very wrong but if it somehow turns out to be the way that your ancestors told you to find I'm willing to do it."

He reached with his free hand and pulled her into a hug simply because she seemed like she needed it. "You don't have to make a decision now. In fact, you don't even have to think about it now. Just try to rest now, okay?" He placed a peck on her forehead to comfort her.

"Okay," she agreed and let him lead her to the bed.

"Would help you relax if I sang to you?" he wondered, getting comfortable on the bed and pulling her to his side until she was using his chest as a pillow.

She nodded, still anxiously gripping his hand. She really wanted to clear her mind and the foul thoughts in her head were making it quite difficult.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Hello, readers. Bet you didn't think you'd hear from me again.

* * *

Beca woke up feeling drained. A beeping noise woke her up. Opening her eyes, she saw a blur. A few blinks later, her vision got better. She was laying on a bed. The beeping was coming from one of those heart machines and it was connected to her.

 _'What the fuck happened?'_ she found herself wondering.

She tried to sit up and failed.

"Hey, you're up," Jesse said in a very gentle tone catching her attention.

She tilted her head immediately, finally noticing him.

"What happened?" she asked and watched as his expression changed slightly.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he questioned after studying her appearance. She was sure she looked _lovely_.

"Falling asleep," she answered. "Falling asleep while you sang to me and _we cuddled_."

He nodded curtly before he spoke again. "Nothing else?" he checked.

She shook her head. She was starting to freak out. She was also too tired to focus let alone push for answers.

As the beeping noise became fast matching her racing heart, Jesse moved from his spot on the chair near her bed and sat on the small space on the bed. "Hey, hey, hey," he said, reaching for her hand taking in his. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to freak you out," he apologized.

She threw head back and closed her eyes, not minding the feeling that holding hands with Jesse brought.

"You had a dream and you didn't want to share what it was about when it woke you up... you barely slept for two hours. You insisted you felt fine when I asked if you're okay because I could hear your heart." He paused momentarily, thinking back at how weird Beca acted while they packed. He wished she just told him what she saw in her dream that freaked her out so bad: it wasn't just her heart that was racing, she was shaking, too. She blamed it on being tired and he pretended to believe her.

"We rented a car and headed south. You weren't feeling well… your nose was bleeding and you threw up a lot. I wanted to take you to a hospital," he sighed.

"Let me guess, I said no," she deadpanned, opening her eyes to look at him.

He nodded. "You told me you could wait until we were out of Spain and on Moroccan soil. I tried to take convince you otherwise but dropped it when it turned into an argument and made you sicker."

"Sounds like me."

"Yeah," he chuckled humorlessly. "I've been around for a very long time and I have never seen more stubborn person than you."

She fought off her dizziness until there was no way he'd make a detour and it sure was amazing how tough she was.

"You collapsed once we got here and I rushed you to the closest hospital I found."

"Where is _here_ exactly?" She tried to sit up again and succeeded.

"Morocco, Fnideq which is also known as Castillejos to be specific," he informed. "I should go get you a doctor."

"Okay." She nodded, glancing down at their hands. "Before you go." She weakly gripped his hand when he stood up.

"Yeah?"

"How are you?" she asked and watched him crack a small smile.

"I'm well." He wasn't and she could tell.

She looked at him in disbelief. "One more thing," she said when he tried to pull his hand from hers. "What color are my eyes?" she wanted to know.

"Blue," he let her know and she sighed in relief. "I'll be right back."

* * *

"Is it any good?" Jesse asked, feeling the need to say something, as Beca ate her lunch. "You're not very experimental with what goes into your stomach, how are you taking Moroccan hospital food?"

He was desperately trying to avoid silence because he could tell she wasn't the most comfortable and he didn't blame her: the last thing they talked about before she blacked out was a good reason to feel awkward.

He almost regretted suggesting they had sex to see if it would have an effect on her and her powers.

"Yeah," she answered. It took her a while before she could bring herself to eat, feeling nauseous, but once she started eating her appetite grew large. "It's not bad."

"Wanna try some?" she questioned, glancing at him and see that he was fixating on the tray in front of her.

He did tell her that when she touched him he felt human he should be able to eat it, it wouldn't overwhelm his senses.

Jesse looked between her and the food in front of her then shook his head.

"Wanna hear a mildly interesting coincidence?" Jesse asked, changing the subject.

"Sure." She shrugged.

"My middle name Rick," he told her and noting the frown that formed on her forehead, he continued, "If you had seen Casablanca you would have figured out why it's a mildly interesting coincidence, Beca Ilsa," he knowingly said.

" _If_ you're trying to trick me into sitting through the movie, don't," she told him. "I'm not that eager to get the _mildly interesting coincidence_."

"The main characters in Casablanca are called Rick and Ilsa," he informed.

"When did I tell you my middle name?" she questioned.

She doubted her middle came up in the period she had blacked out.

"You didn't. I saw it on your passport," he replied. "You think your mother named you after Ilsa from Casablanca?" he asked, remembering that she knew the song As Times Goes By thanks to her mother and wondering if her mother heard it in Casablanca like most people had.

She shook her head. "No, my middle name's my grandmother's first name."

"What about your first name?" he asked when she went quiet.

"Uh, dad read this novel called Rebecca and it sort of got stuck in his head," she explained.

"Have you read the novel?" he wanted to know.

"Yeah, it's about a dumb chick that marries some high-class rich dude and how everyone is hung up on his late wife Rebecca who is described to be this perfect woman and later is revealed to be a super manipulative bitch."

"Hitchcock turned this novel into a movie," Jesse informed. "I've seen it."

"Of course, you have." She was surprised. She was actually convinced Jesse had seen every movie that came out in the 20th century.

"It's a great thriller. I mean it's _Hitchcock_ and that man knows how to make a suspenseful film. I should grab the novel sometime 'cause he must have made changes in the adaptation."

"You're such a nerd," Beca noted.

"What? I wanna know what sort of changes they made."

"So that you could tell people more trivia next time you watch the movie adaptation."

"It's not just about trivia. I just love movies and filmmaking," he explained.

"You love movies? I wouldn't have guessed," she said and smiled when he snorted. "You ask an awful lot about me and never tell me anything about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything about your life really would be interesting." She shrugged.

"I'm originally from a small town in Wisconsin. My family emigrated from England but father was from Poland. He went to work in England where he met Mother and settled there at first."

"He moved to England for her sake."

"Yeah," he nodded. "He didn't even speak English. Mother said it was love at first sight and the language barrier wasn't much of a problem."

"That's sweet." She smiled at him.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. "He learned English, eventually."

"So, you were born in England?"

He shook his head. "Two of my siblings were. Then my family moved to America once they could afford it."

"How many siblings did you have?" she wanted to know.

"Four. Three sisters and a brother. I'm actually the youngest one." His fingers that were drawing random patterns on her right arm were still for a few seconds, the same seconds during which he was quiet. "Are you done with that?" He nodded at the tray on her lap and she nodded.

She reached out her hand when he placed the tray aside.

He took it in his and sat down.

"I'm sorry." She squeezed his hand.

He frowned and was about to ask her why she was sorry but she spoke before he could.

"Mom's been gone for eight years now and I still miss her _like crazy_." She rolled her eyes. "I can only imagine how it's like for you."

He smiled meeting her gaze—words weren't necessary.

"So," she said breaking the silence they got in. "When am I getting out here?" she wanted to know.

"Depends on your tests results," he informed to which she blew a breath. "Hey, most of them came back clean. The doctor is just making sure nothing is wrong with you."

"You sure that's it's the doctor that want to make sure nothing is wrong with me?" she questioned knowingly.

"Okay, I may or may not have asked the doctor to do a full scan," he told her. "Better be safe than sorry."

"I appreciate it but that's not necessary. I feel fine."

"You don't even remember the state you were in," he countered, his soft expression hardening a little.

"Touché," she admitted.

She didn't like the whole blacking out thing and hoped it was temporary. She sure as well wanted to know what she dreamed of and refused to tell Jesse about.

* * *

The rest of her tests results came back clean and she was discharged the next day.

She wanted to take a shower but first, she had to give her father and Chloe a call and because she went MIA on them. So, she and Jesse went and got a prepaid phone as soon as they left the hospital.

The conversations with her old man and Chloe went exactly how she imagined them: Dr. Mitchell was just glad to hear from her while Chloe made loads of inappropriate jokes that Beca was thrilled Jesse couldn't hear since he was holding hands with her thus had no enhanced hearing.

Jesse inhaled deeply as they walked by the beach, making their way back to where they parked the car from the store they purchased the phone from. "How are they doing?" he questioned once she hung up the phone.

It felt so good to not have heightened senses: He was making a conscious effort not to enjoy it too much.

"They're good," she answered curtly and looked down at their hands when he started to swing them.

"Good," he echoed while he gazed at the beach.

"You wanna go for a swim?" she guessed when he didn't tear his eyes away from the beach.

"I don't think I've ever been to the beach back when I could walk during the daytime," he said instead of giving her a direct answer.

"I'll take that for a yes," she decided. "I'm gonna need a cap and tons of sunscreen… and a bathing suit _first_." She looked around them hoping to see a store from where she could purchase any of what she needed. "You're gonna need sunscreen, too," she let him know when she felt his gaze on her.

* * *

 _Two hours later_ , they were both standing by the shore. It was around noon. Sun was shining brightly in the clear sky and Beca hoped the sunscreen wouldn't fail her. Even if it did. She'd take some sunburn for Jesse. He was trying to keep his excitement to a minimum but she sure as hell saw how happy he was that he at the beach.

It was adorable actually: It reminded her a child's excitement.

Once in the water, it became a little tricky to constantly hold hands so they both decided it would be best if Beca wrapped her arms around his shoulders while on his back, sort of like a piggyback ride.

"This is awesome," Jesse said no longer hiding his excitement.

"Definitely something," Beca mumbled in response while looking around them. They were in deep water. Maybe, just maybe, Jesse was a little to stoked to be in the sea and swam too far. "So, are we in Mediterranean water or Atlantic water?" she asked next. "And before you correct me I know the Mediterranean's technically part of the Atlantic Ocean. I'm just asking about where we are geographically speaking as in are we in the Mediterranean sea right now?" she rambled, pulling her head back when Jesse tilted his to look at her.

He smirked before he spoke, "are you scared?"

"No, I'm not," she was quick to deny it, scoffing. "What made you think I'm scared?"

"You voice gave it away. You speak fast when you freak out and it goes a few pitches higher than the usual," he explained. "Why are you scared?"

"Scared is an exaggeration. I just don't like how deep we are into the water." He snickered in response. "Don't be such an ass. We barely know what's in five percent of what's in the ocean which is fucking crazy."

"It is," he agreed. "But I wouldn't worry about whatever is in the water… you can probably beat it." It was her turn to snort.

"Don't sell yourself short, Becs. You're just like the ocean. You've barely scratched the surface when it comes to what you can do yet look at what you can already do." His face was too close. And, his voice? Yeah, that didn't help. He was speaking in such a gentle tone it made her want to shut him up with her mouth.

She shoved that very thought to the back of her mind and looked away from him, getting an idea, one that didn't involve Jesse in an inappropriate way.

She pulled her hand out of the water and focused on the water. "I never tried to manipulate the water before," she mentioned and went on to do that, creating a small wave before she made the water to go upwards and willed it to create an even bigger wave that she pushed in the direction of the shore.

"Can you go underwater and like swim towards the sand? I wanna try something," she thoughtfully said.

"Why?" He arched an eyebrow. "What are you planning to do?"

She was still recovering: she had to be cautious.

He didn't want her to end up hurting herself.

"You'll see." She shrugged.

"Hold your breath," he told her before he sucked in a deep breath.

They were underwater in mere seconds. She dug her fingers into his shoulder while she unwrapped her other arm from around his shoulder. They were a few feet away from the sand when she tried to push the water away from them.

He figured out what she was trying to do right away and looked at her in confusion. His confusion was replaced with surprise shortly after that because she did it, sort of, she pushed the water away from the land.

He could see the way the water started to follow the directions she was trying to get to move in the closer he swam towards the sand.

He watched what was slowly unfolding in front of him and couldn't believe his eyes it when his legs hit the sand and they were no longer in the water—technically they were, it was around them.

Beca parted the sea, making enough dry space for them.

"Beca, you're gonna hurt yourself," he said once it was possible to speak.

She wanted to roll her eyes but she had to focus hard if she wanted to maintain what she managed to pull off. "Just enjoy this and take mental pictures," she said instead.

"I can't do that while you're deliberately hurting yourself." He looked around them, he was in complete awe because he had never seen anything similar in his life but he was feeling very uneasy.

"I'm not hurting myself and I need you believe that and relax." She tore her eyes away from the sea to look at him briefly.

"This is beautiful," he said at last.

"It really is," she agreed, biting her bottom lip. It was tricky to keep the water away from them but it wasn't physically hurting her yet. She knew it would become difficult at some point but she was confident she could hold it for a minute.

Jesse poked the water with his finger before he extended his arm into the water while he looked up.

It was as if they were standing between two waterfalls.

"Thank you for making this a whole lot more special," Jesse said, tilting his head to look at Beca and placing a peck on her cheek.

"You're welcome, nerd," she said in response, biting her lip harder while she tried to think of how to undo things subtly. She hadn't thought it through and went with impulse when the idea crossed her mind.

She was too busy trying to figure something out to notice that Jesse was staring at her— trust her if she did notice it would have messed with her concentration.

She figured she'd try to close the gap like a zipper and got on it right away, grinning when it worked.

"Moses got nothing on me," Beca joked once they were on the surface and she successfully closed the gap she created.

She tilted her head to look at Jesse when he said nothing in response and found him staring at her.

"That was amazing," he mumbled, his eyes traveling between her eyes and lips before he held her gaze. "You're amazing," he said next, helping her off his back on to pull her closer to him once she was facing him.

Although it was there, her attraction towards him, she was pretty sure she wasn't doing it this time. She wasn't _making him_ feel her attraction. She was busy parting a sea then sealing it back and that sort of thing required a lot of concentration. Besides, she wasn't intoxicated and she usually transmitted her feelings when she was drunk.

She didn't know what to make of the situation and couldn't exactly think straight when his lips were ghosting over hers.

When she didn't pull away, he pressed his lips against hers.

For once, they kissed and she _wasn't_ the one that initiated it.

She _wasn't_ sure what was happening or why it was happening but she knew that she wanted it.

It was nothing like their previous kisses, it _wasn't_ forceful.

She melted into it and truly savored every second of it.

Beca was the one that broke it, swallowing hard when _it_ hit her: she was developing feelings for Jesse whose arms were pulling her into his embrace. He held her close and hugged her.

She wasn't going to question why he went for a hug, it felt right, and hugged him back.

' _Now what?'_ she wondered.


End file.
